Love Lights Your Way
by Jaenelle Angelline
Summary: FINISHED. Sequel to 'Where The Heart Is' and 'No Greater Love'. Read other two in sequence before reading this. Reviews appreciated, with thanks!
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1:

There was a weak groan from behind her.

Dr. Amanda Greene turned away from the stove where she was pulling out a pan of lasagna and put down the potholder, crossing the kitchen to help the stumbling girl coming down the kitchen steps. "Hello," she said gently. 

The girl dragged herself across the kitchen and sat down gingerly on the edge of a kitchen chair, wincing. "Owww," she moaned again.

Amanda fetched a pillow and held it out. "Stand up, dear," she said, and slid the pillow onto the chair seat. The girl sat down again with a sigh, somewhat more comfortably.

She returned to the pan, neatly cutting the lasagna into squares, then leaving it aside to cool as she checked on the garlic bread. Nodding approvingly, she closed the oven door and turned to the girl. "How do you feel?"

The girl considered. "Sore all over," she said. "What happened?"

Amanda raised an eyebrow. "I believe that was my line," she said. At the girl's puzzled look, she sat down at the table. "I found you outside by the boat landing a week ago," she said. "You were pretty badly hurt. Almost drowned in the river, I think."

The girl still looked blank. Amanda sighed. "Look," she said kindly, "I didn't take you to a hospital because I thought maybe you were running from an abusive husband. You had a lot of welts and bruises on your thighs, and I remember seeing the same marks on a woman I saw once when I was interning at the local hospital. So I didn't take you there. If you want to remain anonymous, that's fine, but I can't keep calling you 'hey you' until you leave. What's your name?"

The girl's forehead wrinkled. "I can't remember," she said finally, awkwardly. 

Amanda sighed again. "Stay here," she said. She ran up the stairs to her bedroom, grabbed her black case with all her medical supplies in it, and returned to the kitchen. Amanda shone a light into her eyes, checked her ears, throat, and temperature, then went around behind the girl and parted the locks of black hair there. Four stitches closed a nasty gash on the girl's scalp. She checked for swelling, anything abnormal, then allowed the hair to fall back into place and packed up her stuff. Then she resumed her seat as the girl waited for her diagnosis.

Amanda pursed her lips. "I was expecting this, although I hoped it wouldn't happen," she said. "You have amnesia from a nasty blow to the back of your head. There was a nasty bleeding gash on the back of your head, and a hairline skull fracture. The fracture will heal; but I had to close the gash with sutures. I had to cut your hair," she said apologetically. "You had lovely long black hair. I'm sorry I had to cut it, but it was easier to take care of you with short hair."

The girl reached up and touched the ends gingerly. Amanda reflected that her body might still remember, even if her mind didn't; the girl's hand felt for a moment at the empty space where the ends would have been before reaching up to touch the ends that now hung just under her ears. "How long have I been here?" the girl asked.

"A couple of weeks," Amanda said. "Let's see…I found you on Christmas Eve, and it's now January sixth." She got up, reached into a large basket on the kitchen table, and came up with a small package wrapped in red and white paper. "Merry belated Christmas," she said. The girl looked at it, bemused, then took it and opened it. Amanda watched how she unwrapped it; instead of just ripping into it, she found the edges of the tape holding the paper wrapping and unwrapped it that way. She filed that thought away as a possible clue; this girl was neat. Then the paper was crumpled and tossed carelessly on the table, and Amanda revised her estimation; she might be neat, but not obsessively so.

The girl looked at the contents of the package. "A book?" she said.

"A book of names," she said. "I thought maybe you might have amnesia, and I figured if you did, because of the location of the fracture, it would be the short-term kind. In other words, it would affect your short-term memory. You're lucky; if the impact had been any further toward the right, it would have affected your motor skills and learning ability."

"Meaning…" the girl prodded. 

"Meaning you would have forgotten how to read, write, speak, everything. You'd be a baby."

"A _tabula rasa_," the girl nodded. "A clean slate."

Amanda perked up. "You must have some higher learning background," she said. "How do you know Latin?"

The girl frowned, thought, then shook her head. "I don't know," she sighed. "I can't remember."

Amanda got up and took the bread out of the oven. "Let's start with something simple," she said. "You obviously still remember something. Look through the names in that book and see if any of them _feel_ familiar to you when you say them." She put the bread down on the table. "And oh, I forgot something. When I picked you up off the riverbank you said the name 'Logan' several times. And when I was washing all the mud off you, I found a little tattoo on your hip with the same name. Can you remember anything about that name, or the person connected to that name?"

"Logan," the girl said thoughtfully, slowly, tasting the name as it rolled off her tongue. She froze. For a moment there was a feeling of happiness, but it was gone almost as fast as she'd recognized it. She shook her head. "There was something, but I can't place it," she said.

Amanda smiled gently. "Well, don't rush it," she said. "It'll come back to you. In the meantime, put that book aside and come eat." 

The girl ate fast, almost inhaling her food. Amanda dumped seconds on her plate before she could resist. "Eat," she said when the girl hesitated. "You look like you haven't eaten in weeks, which is fairly accurate seeing as how you've been unconscious or fevered for most of the time you've been here."

They started eating, only to be interrupted by a clatter of toenails as a small, furry dog raced around the corner from the hall and stopped before Amanda's chair, yapping hysterically. The girl laughed and snapped her fingers, and Buster went over and sniffed her fingers. The girl lifted him into her lap, laughed as he nibbled her fingers, and kissed his head. "I always wanted a dog at home," she said absently. "But the rules said we couldn't have one."

She suddenly realized what she'd said, and she looked at Amanda disbelievingly. "Did I just say that?" she said.

"Yes you did," Amanda said. "Don't try to force yourself to remember, it seems to be coming back naturally."

The little dog yelped, and the girl laughed as he twisted around in her arms to glare at the plate. "May I?" she asked Amanda.

Amanda snapped her fingers. "Buster! Come here." The girl put the little dog down and watched as he ran over to Amanda, who obligingly gave him a tiny bit off her plate. His tail wagged happily as he licked it off her fingers.

She got up, picked up her plate, and dropped it in the sink along with the pan she'd cooked in. The girl finished eating and brought her plate to the sink, but as she picked up the dish sponge, Amanda swatted at her hand playfully. "I am not going to have my guest doing dishes," she said firmly. "If you want to do something, take Buster out for me. He's probably got to go." The little dog heard the word 'out' and was already running in circles around the back door. "His leash is over there," Amanda pointed to a hook beside the door where a red nylon leash hung, "and you can use my jacket right there next to it. My boots are right under the jacket. They're going to be a little big for you, but at least you'll have dry feet." She waved a hand at the girl. "Go on, now. He's waiting."

She thought about her guest as she finished the dishes. The girl was neat, but not obsessively; smart, certainly. There was some indication of higher learning there, and she didn't speak like someone who had little education. In fact, now that she thought about it, the girl talked much like Amanda's boyfriend did.

He was due back in a few more days; Amanda hoped he wouldn't be upset about the waif she'd taken in. Bruce Garrett could be a bit possessive of the things he thought of as his; and this house (which belonged to his parents and had been used exclusively as a vacation cottage) definitely qualified as his. It was a habit of his that irritated her; but she supposed that if you worked in as competitive a field as physics, you were bound to be a little possessive about your research.

He was out of town right now, attending a biogenetics conference in San Francisco. It wasn't exactly his field; but as he had taken credit for a paper she'd published six months earlier, he was obliged to go. Amanda hoped he would be asked a question he couldn't answer. Maybe then he'd stop taking credit for her discoveries.

She sighed as she rinsed a plate. It was her own fault her paper was pirated; when Bruce had first proposed a working partnership with him at his labs in Snow Valley, she'd jumped at the chance. After all, he had a state-of-the-art laboratory with all the most modern equipment; a far cry from the warehouse laboratory she had been working in. But she had rapidly found out that with Bruce, a 'working partnership' meant 'you do the work, I'll take the credit', and she had lately been wondering if access to the most up-to-date laboratory was worth the pirating of her work. 

Bruce had come back from the last conference hopping mad; apparently he'd made the same offer to another doctor at the conference, and he'd been turned down. Amanda had silently cheered Dr. Lee; the woman was obviously smarter than she was.

She frowned as she dried her hands and hung up her dishtowel. Her guest had been out there for an awfully long time. She peered out the window, trying to see through the gathering darkness outside, but couldn't catch a glimpse of the girl. Slightly concerned, she went down the front hall to the hall closet and got another coat. Slipping her feet into her sneakers, she went out the door and closed it behind her.

The cold December air was bracing, a refreshing change from the warm air of the kitchen. Amanda took several deep breaths, coughing a little as her lungs expelled the warm kitchen air and filled with cold outside air. Then she saw the girl standing a short way down the lawn, looking at the dark water.

"Is this where you found me?" she asked as Amanda came up behind her.

"Yes," Amanda said. The girl looked up, at the gray sky and the dim misty shape of the city through the falling snow. They couldn't see much.

Buster yapped, and the girl looked down. "Oh, dear, Buster, I'm sorry," she said, picking up the snowy dog and ruffling his fur. "Come on, let's get you inside." With Amanda following, they returned to the house.

"Stay there," Amanda said when they came in. "Let me get a towel to wipe him off before he tracks snow all over the house." The girl obediently kept a tight hold on the leash as she stepped out of the boots and took off the coat. Then she knelt and held Buster still as Amanda dried the little dog off.

He ran off down the hall, yelping, and Amanda stood. "You look cold," she said. "You're welcome to take a shower upstairs in the bathroom, just be careful, the shampoo might sting the stitches a bit. There should be a robe behind the door. If you could put it on and come back to the room you woke up in, I could take a look at the wounds you have and bandage them again."

She followed the girl up the stairs, carrying her medical bag. The girl headed for the bathroom; she went to the bedroom. As she heard the water start to run, she unpacked the supplies she'd need, then headed to her room and grabbed one of her flannel nightgowns. It was too big for the smaller, younger woman, but at least she'd have something warm to sleep in. It was too bad, she reflected, that she'd thrown away the girl's clothes; maybe the sight of them would have jogged something in the girl's memory. Or not; Amanda reflected that they had been so badly shredded and stained that they were little more than rags.

She looked up as the water stopped running; it had been a short, quick shower. The girl came walking back in, carrying the clothes she had worn into the bathroom and wearing Amanda's bathrobe. Amanda took the clothes from her and put them in the laundry hamper in the corner; then patted the bed. The girl sat down.

"Lie down, dear," she said. The girl hesitated, clenching her thighs together. Amanda sighed. "There's not a lot about you I haven't seen," she said gently. "I'm a doctor; there's not a lot about the human body I haven't seen. And dear, whoever hurt you isn't here. I certainly won't hurt you. And I need to check on your wounds." The girl lay down, slowly, and opened the robe.

Amanda checked the cuts on her legs. The scabs had begun to fall away, leaving new skin on them. She would have some scars on her legs, but thankfully none of them would be big. She examined everything else before she took a deep breath and gently opened the girl's knees.

The girl took a deep breath and went white. Amanda didn't blame her. When she had first brought the girl in and had taken a real good look at her, she had been a mess there. She looked like someone had taken sandpaper and rubbed the skin off her between her legs. The girl had cried in pain at the lightest touch, and Amanda had slipped a pillow between her legs as she slept.

"I don't even want to know what I looked like when you found me," the girl said quietly, watching as Amanda slathered salve on the skin of her thighs. "Do you have any idea what could have caused those kinds of injuries?"

Amanda finished wrapping bandages around the girl's thighs before she answered. "I served my internship in a small hospital in Brooklyn. While I was there I had as a patient a woman who'd been abused by her husband. She had a lot of the same injuries you had." She was quiet for a moment. "I hope whoever this man is, this 'Logan' isn't the one who did this to you," she said. The girl looked at the tattoo on her hip, and then back up at Amanda. "Why?"

"Because you really love him," she said. "While you were unconscious you had nightmares. You kept calling for 'Logan'. I hope you find him," she said as she packed up her bag. "Now come on, slip this on and come downstairs," she said, handing her the flannel nightgown. "I'll turn on the TV and we can see if any of it seems familiar."

She turned on the TV and the girl settled in to watch, but nothing seemed to be jogging her memory. Amanda switched off the TV and turned on the radio. "See if any of this sounds familiar," she said. "Music can sometimes trigger powerful memories." 

The first station she turned on was classical. The girl shook her head from the couch where she was reading the name book. "Definitely not," she said. Opera, gospel, and country soon went the same way. The next station was one that played soft rock, and the girl's ears pricked up as she heard the voice. "What's this?"

"Fields of Gold," Amanda said. "From Sting. One of the few songs of his I like."

"The voice is right," the girl said, listening intently for a few minutes. "But the kind of song is wrong." Amanda clicked the stereo button.

The next station was playing classic rock, and the girl sat up excitedly. "That's Ac/Dc," she said excitedly. "I think a friend of mine really liked this song."

Sure enough, when the song ended and the announcer came on, he said the song was from the group Ac/Dc. The girl sat back, smiling. "This is it," she said. "This is what I usually listen to." She closed her eyes as the next song started; 'Start Me Up' by the Rolling Stones, and sat up stiffly, eyes wide, as a snatch of memory came back. 

Amanda saw the look and leaned forward. "What is it? Do you remember anything?"

The girl frowned. "I don't know," she said. "I think I remember a table, and a lot of people in costumes watching…I don't know," she wailed suddenly, slamming the book down on the table. "I can't stand not knowing!"

Amanda got up off her couch and went to her desk, pulling a blank notebook form the drawer. "Here," she said, handing it to the girl. "Write down what you remember. Keep a sort of a diary; later you can look at it and it might jog more memories."

She opened it and took the pen Amanda handed her. "I like classic rock," she said. "And I remember being at a costume party with lots of other people. I seem to have an attraction to someone named 'Logan'," and as she wrote there was that indefinable feeling again, gone in a flash. She set the notebook aside, and picked up the book again. Amanda picked up her book, a romance novel, and began to immerse herself in the story again when she was startled by the girl's sudden movement. "What?" she said.

"Julie," the girl said excitedly. "It feels familiar, somehow. It's not quite right…I feel like there's still something missing…but it's familiar. Julie…" she said again, rolling the name off her tongue.

"Okay," Amanda said, elated. "Let's call you Julie until we know something else, okay?"

"Okay," the girl said, picking up the notebook and scribbling the name in it. "Julie it is."


	2. Moose and Ororo

Chapter 2: Ororo and Moose

Ororo met Logan coming in the door with some surprise. "I thought you had plans to go bar hopping with Max," she said. She never called him Moose; it seemed disrespectful somehow.

"I did," Logan grumped, heading up the steps. "He didn't want to go." He turned and continued on his way. Ororo was left standing with mixed feelings there in the kitchen.

She'd never been particularly thrilled with Logan's habit of hitting the bars and drinking. However, lately, it was the only thing that would get him out of the room he and Jubilee had shared. He had refused to change rooms; he had, in fact, kept everything exactly the way she had left it, as though Jubilee would just walk back in the front door one day and pick up where she left off. 

Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away. It had been two weeks since Jubilee had died; and the loss was still hitting them hard. Hank hadn't been able to bring himself to disassemble the reaction chamber she had performed her experiments in; it sat, lonely and forgotten, in the corner of his lab. Xavier hadn't had the heart to reclaim the texts she'd borrowed from his library to write her papers; he'd spent a great deal of time quietly closeted in his study. Everyone else seemed at loose ends, too; she'd been the youngest of all of them, and her loss was felt deeply.

And not only by the residents of the mansion. Ororo looked outside the window toward the silent figure sitting on the snowy ground by the lake; if she squinted she could just see him. Moose, having received Xavier's permission to visit Jubilee's memorial stone whenever he wished, had taken to coming here every other day or so, just sitting by the stone. She was touched by his obvious grief; he didn't look like the type to take a loss deeply, but there was more to this man than met the eye.

She slipped on a coat and took her hot tea in her hands, slipped her feet into her shoes, and went out to where Moose was sitting. As she got closer to him, she heard him talking, and she stopped while still some distance away to listen.

***

Moose brushed away the snow from the tablet of stone quietly and sat back. It had already been two weeks since his little Lady had died, but it still seemed as if it had been only yesterday. He pulled his dog tags out of his shirt and studied the tiny circle of gold that he'd added to the chain that held them. Its sapphires winked back at him, bringing to his mind the bright blue eyes of its former owner. Those eyes had winked at him many times, usually right before she threw the first punch that would start a bar fight, or when she was conning the money out of some redneck's pocket in a game of pool. It had gotten to the point where no one would play against her. She'd stopped cleaning out the regulars and started to clean out the occasional visitors at Rex's, Crossroads, Harry's, and Fastlane, all the bars she'd visited on a regular basis. 

That was the way he wanted to remember her; laughing, with that ready-for-anything gleam in her blue eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drive out the memory of how she looked the last time he'd seen her. She had been lying on the floor of his garage, screaming in agony as she was brutally assaulted by the mutant that Logan called Sabretooth. Poor Logan; Moose thanked God he had been spared the sight of her after she had been freed from Sabretooth's clutches. Logan had gone out with him only once in the few weeks since she'd been gone. He had gotten smashingly drunk, and when Moose brought him back to his own loft to allow him to sleep it off, Logan had broken and told him what Jubilee had looked like as she fell from the bridge. The mental picture was horrible enough; Moose didn't want to have the actual image of her like that in his mind for the rest of his life.

"I miss ya," he said, his voice rough from the tears he refused to shed. "I miss ya a lot, little Lady. All da guys at Rex's been askin' 'bout you; I ain't had the nerve ta tell them yer gone. I ain't had the nerve ta tell myself yer gone. It's as if, if I don't say it, I can make it like it ain't happened, like yer gonna walk back inta my life one day like ya never left." He paused, to swallow down the lump in his throat, and went on. "I never told ya I got my will changed. Never told ya you were gonna git everything I had when I died. I loved ya, little lady. First I wanted ta get wit' ya, 'cause ya were so much like my ol' girlfriend, but I realized yer heart was full'a somebody else, and ya ain't the type ta love anybody halfway. So ya sorta became my little sister; I wanted ta look out fer ya like ya was my sister, like the baby sister I always wanted but never had.

"I loved ya, little lady. I really did. Was surprised as hell that ya chose my old barfighting opponent Logan as yer man. I had my doubts in the beginnin', but he took care'a ya, an' ya seemed ta be real happy wit' him. An' I could see he loved ya too. An' just 'tween ya an' me, once I met him an' we got ta talkin', I woudnt'a wanted ta see ya wit' no one else. 

"I ain't the religious kind, little Lady, so I don't know where ya are right now, but I hope yer in a better place than this. I'm gonna feel guilty fer the res' o' my life knowin' ya put that damn collar 'round yer neck ta save my rotten life. I wasn't worth it, little Lady. There's a whole housefulla people behind me here mournin' ya. If I died you an Logan'd be da only ones who'd'a missed me." A sob caught in his throat. "Why'd ya do it, little Lady? Dear God, why'd ya do it…" And now the tears did spill down his cheeks, hot tears that burned his wind-reddened cheeks. "I'd give anything, Lady, anything, ta be able ta go back an do that evenin' over. Then ya wouldn't'a died; then I wouldn't have the sounda yer screams echoin' in my head in my nightmares…" And he buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

A slim figure was suddenly in front of him, wrapping arms around him, and he smelled cinnamon and earth as his face was pressed into the warm shoulder. He knew who it was; that warm scent could only come from Jubilee's friend Ororo. And she didn't care that he was supposed to be a big, tough guy who was made of stone and shouldn't cry. His shoulders shook with his sobs as he cried.

Ororo held him in her arms as he cried. It was a terrible image for anyone to carry in their minds; she didn't envy him or Logan one bit, even though she had wished with all her heart when it happened that she had been there too. She could have maybe caught Jubilee before she hit the ice. Jean had been beating herself up over that; if she had been just the tiniest bit faster, she could have caught Jubilee…

But that was then, this was now. They couldn't go back and change anything. She leaned back on her heels and contemplated the man sitting in front of her. "Come inside," she said, tugging him to his feet. "Have a cup of tea with me." She picked up her now-cold cup, sitting forgotten in the snow, and walked back to the house with him.

He sat silently at the kitchen table, watching as she boiled some more water and dropped two tea bags into cups. "I'm sorry," he said finally.

"For what?" She said as she brought the cup over to him. 

"F'r…well…cryin' all over ya, an' makin' a scene out there…" he gestured toward the kitchen door.

Ororo laid a hand on his arm. "Do not be sorry," she said. "Everyone deals with grief in their own way, but it helps if you have someone to share it with. We all have each other, here…but you do not, and grief becomes much harder to bear alone. I was wondering when you would come to seek one of us out; Logan told us you have not been yourself of late. We have been worried about you…" she trailed off. "I have been worried about you. You tried so hard not to let me know that day in the hospital room how much her death hurt you, and at the time I was too wrapped up in my own sorrow to pay much attention to yours. Max, if you need to talk, I am here. Please feel free to talk to me." She poured the boiling water into the two mugs and dropped a little silver spoon into his. Grabbing another spoon for herself, she sat down at the table and stirred hers as she asked, "How did you meet her?"

Moose chuckled a bit and stirred his tea. He wasn't usually the tea kind of guy, but the warmth thawed out his chilled hands, and the lovely smile of the silver-haired woman in front of him warmed his heart. "I was at Rex's about a year and a half ago," he said. "She came in lookin' f'r the French dude she hung around with. He was playin' a game'a pool wit' me when his partner bowed out, an' she offered ta play. He was a little concerned; it wasn't till later that I realized he wasn't so much concerned for her losing everything as he was worried that I was gonna beat her up when she won."

Ororo chuckled as she sipped her tea. "Jubilee was good at pool," she said. "She hung around Logan all the time when she was younger; it was to be expected."

"Yeah," Moose grinned ruefully. "I didn' know that when she picked up the stick. She started off with real easy shots, at first, missed some'a them, made herself look like an amateur. I cleaned her and the Cajun boy out--"

"Who you callin' boy, eh,_ homme?_" Remy growled as he came into the kitchen. Ororo turned as he settled into a chair beside her. 

"Ah, cool yer jets," Moose waved a hand at him. "Jus' tellin' Ororo here how the little Lady an' I first met."

"Ah," Remy said, sitting back in his chair, a smile settling on his lips. "Go right on 'head, den." He got up and got a glass of water from the sink.

"So anyway," Moose said after a slant-eyed look at the Cajun, "He an' the little Lady played a coupla games, an' I cleaned the both'a 'em out. She asked me fer one more game. I was gonna decline; but she challenged me, an' there wasn't no way I was gonna let a little thing like her challenge me in front'a my friends an' not take her up. She put her little gold necklace down on the edge of the table an' talked me inta the game. Big mistake. I shoulda quit while I was ahead." He took a sip of the beverage in front if him, and said, "She cleaned me out. Started off with a coupla trick shots I'd only seen professionals do; an' it all went downhill from there. I lost everythin' I won that night in one game."

"Well, I got mad. Really mad. Y'know, I'd always promised myself I'd never hit a woman, but I was so mad I don' think I know what I was doin'. I think I was madder at myself for gettin' fleeced than I was 'bout losin' my money. I wasn't really thinkin' clearly when I hauled off an swung at her. I ain't never hit a woman before, an' I never will. Lucky me, she ducked quick enough to slip under my arm. My punch hit the guy standin' right behind her, an' he got mad. "'Hit a woman, will ya?' he says. 'I'll teach ya.' I was so stunned at what I did that he got in a few good punches 'fore I got myself free o' him. I looked aroun' fer her, but she'd gathered up the money she won an' hightailed it outta there."

Remy laughed. "Yeah, she was goin' pretty fast when she left," he chuckled. "Den she be laughin' all de way back. She insist on goin' back de nex' night. We run inta you dere again t'ree nights later, an' she apologized." He grinned amiably at Moose. "Was s'prised as heck when she say she soory f'r fleecin' you. Was even more s'prised when you say it was okay. She bought all o' us drinks dat night, if I r'member correct, an' you two been frien's after dat." He sobered. "I know you don' like me, _homme, _so after dat when I take her to de bar I check to see if you dere. If you dere, I know you goin' to take care o' her, so dat's why I leave. She tol' me once you say you t'ink I don' like you; dat not true, _mon ami_. I like you fine; I jus' t'ink maybe you don' like me, an' I stay away 'cause I didn' want her to ruin her evenin' playing referee between us."

Moose looked at him as he put down his cup. "Well, this seems to be a night for revelations. It's not that I didn't like ya, it was that I didn't think ya were right fer her. Ya liked that li'l red-head, what's-her-name, Sal, back at Fastlane, an she and the little Lady were so completely different, I couldn't imagine ya an Jubilee bein' wit' each other like dat. She jus' not yer type, Cajun." 

"Hey," Remy said, standing up, his muscles tensing, "You not de one to be tellin' me who I like or don' like, okay, she like me fine. An' ain't no time I ever t'ought o' her like dat. She too young, an' Logan be my bes' friend. I wouldn' take her from him, even if she'd let me. An' wasn't nice f'r you to try take her neither.""

"Easy, Remy," Ororo stood and put a hand on his arm. "Come on. Jubilee would not want the two of you fighting like this. She thought of you as her big brother, Max, she told me so once. And Remy was never anything but a very good friend."

"I always wanted a little sister like her," Moose said suddenly, so wistfully that Remy and Ororo both looked at him in surprise. "I was an only child; an' a disappointment ta my parents at that. There were times when I did treat her as my little sister; but she never seemed to min'…" his voice trailed off as he stared into his cup, thinking about the girl he'd loved.

***

_Logan…_

The voice intruded on his dreams, causing him to turn restlessly in bed. He missed the owner of that voice; missed her so much it was a real, physical pain in his chest. He knew what a broken heart felt like, now; because his was most definitely broken. He never dreamed he'd miss his little firecracker so much.

_Logan…_

He bit down on his fist, muffling the soft moan that threatened to escape him as he rolled over again, tangling the sheet around his legs. He hugged the pillow against him, staring at the flowered fabric. "Ah, Jubes," he whispered, his hand going to the tiny sapphire and diamond ring hanging on the chain around his neck that his dog tags clinked softly against. "Why'd ya have ta leave me? Why? I loved ya, I could have pulled ya up. I would have risked gettin' pulled inta the river ta save ya. Ya didn't have ta sacrifice yerself fer me. Oh, Jubes…" and he buried his face in the pillow again; not crying, because he'd cried so much over the last couple of weeks he felt empty. There were no tears left. "How'm I gonna live without ya?"

**Logan…** he suddenly heard. Her voice, as he'd been hearing in his sleep so often the last two weeks, but it was so clear that he almost felt like she was still there beside him in the bed. 

"Jubes?" he sat up, staring around the room. "Jubes?"

****

Logan, help me, came the soft voice again, and he stared into the darkness in disbelief. The voice wasn't audible; it was coming from the place deep in his mind where the link Jubilee had planted in his mind lay. He reached inside himself for that link, as Jean had taught him to what seemed like a lifetime ago, but found it quiet. That silver thread lay limp, severed from its owner. Because she was dead. She was dead, and he would never see her again, except perhaps when spring thawed out the river and the police finally found her body.

He lay back down in bed despondently, covering himself with the blanket, and hugged her pillow to him again. He had to keep telling himself she was dead, or he would start to listen to that traitorous voice in his head that was telling him she might still be alive somewhere…

***

Ororo listened as Logan's breath evened out from where she stood in the bathroom across from his room door, but her mind wasn't on him. Max had just left, after a long discussion about Jubilee's friendship with both of them.

She had loved Jubilee like a little sister; she had never suspected, through all the stories Jubilee had told her about her friend, that he had felt the same thing for her. There was much more to the big man than she'd realized, and he was in desperate need of comfort. She hadn't suspected that he felt Jubilee's loss so deeply, and she felt a little guilty now. She had her friends here at the mansion; who did he have? Logan was too immersed in his own grief to pay much attention to anyone else's, and the type of friends he had weren't likely to feel a great deal of sympathy for him, or feel any deep grief for someone they hadn't known. They would say 'sorry' and keep going, leaving him alone. 

Tomorrow she would ask Logan for his address. Perhaps some company would help him cheer up; and she wanted to hear more about his relationship to Jubilee. With that thought in mind, she climbed the stairs to her attic and slipped between the cool sheets of her bed. In no time at all she was asleep.


	3. Bruce

Chapter 3:

                A wet nose shoved into her hand, and Amanda blinked as a wet little tongue followed it. "Buster," she groaned, "come on, can't I sleep a little longer?" But the little dog was insistent, he had to go out, he had to go out _now_, and would she please hurry up…

                She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, and left her bedroom, following the little dog downstairs. She sat down at the kitchen table yawning, and looked up as her guest handed her a cup of coffee. "Let me just take Buster out," she said, but Julie shook her head. 

                "No, let me. It's really cold out this morning; I'm dressed right now, and you aren't." Indeed, she was already dressed. Amanda took a quick glance at the clock; nine-thirty in the morning. "What time did you get up?" she said.

                Julie smiled. "Around seven. Listened to some more music, quietly, so I wouldn't wake you. Watched the news. Nothing came back, though; I was hoping that something would jog my memory." She set her coffee cup down. "The only thing I remembered is that I like my coffee with two sugars and a cream." She stood, putting on the coat and boots by the back door and clipped the leash onto the frantically dancing dog's collar. "I tried to take him out earlier so he wouldn't wake you, but he insisted on going to wake you up first."

                Amanda grinned. "He doesn't usually go with strangers; I was surprised that he jumped up into your lap so quickly last night. He can't stand my fiance; Bruce doesn't seem to like him much. Well, for that matter, I don't really like him either sometimes." She sat in silence, sipping her coffee and flipping through one of her medical journals as she waited for Julie to bring Buster back in.

                A ball of snow on four legs exploded in the back door and shook vigorously, spraying snow in all directions. Amanda screamed with laughter as Julie came in, shielding herself from the flying snow. She tossed the kitchen towel at the girl, who caught it deftly, and proceeded to rub the little dog's fur dry of snow as he wriggled in her arms. 

                When he was more or less dry Julie straightened up, hung the coat on the hook and took off the boots. She resumed her place at the kitchen table and said quietly, "Bruce?"

                Amanda sighed. Well, they'd have to talk about him sooner or later. "Bruce is my fiance. He's been out of town the last four weeks attending a conference on atomic theory. He's due back sometime this week; and we're going to be going back up to Snow Valley to his labs there. This is just a vacation house for him; his parents own it. We were only supposed to be here for the holidays, but he had to leave unexpectedly, and my holiday got extended. I can't wait to get back to the labs and continue my work."

                Julie tried to hide her concern, but Amanda could see her trepidation. "I'll talk to Bruce," she said quietly. "Maybe he'll let you stay here, or perhaps you can come with us to our house in Massachusetts. Either way, he's not going to just toss you out. Until you get your memory back, you can stay with us." She smiled kindly at the girl's apprehensive look. "Come on. Let me finish my coffee and then we can run out to the stores and find you something decent to wear. We should be able to get a few nice things for you."

                Julie brightened up at that considerably. "Okay," she said. 

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Julie looked around. The store was fairly empty; probably due to the snow beginning to fall outside. Amanda walked over to a rack of jeans and picked up a pair of carpenter type jeans. "Do you like these?" she asked.

                Julie looked at them in distaste. "I don't think I do," she said. Beside that rack was another one full of classic, regular jeans. She looked them over approvingly. "I think I'm a bit more conservative," she said finally, picking out one. She held it up to her critically. "I don't think I'm a size four."

                Amanda smiled. "My jeans seem to fit you all right, they're just a little long. Why don't you try finding a pair in a size six short? You might have more luck that way."

                In no time at all, Jubilee had two pairs of jeans in a size six, and several T-shirts and sweaters in a medium. Amanda had been about to suggest smalls, the same size she wore, but Julie had a bit more chest than she did. They were about to leave when she stopped outside a jewelry store, her eye caught by the gold and sapphire ring in the window.

                Amanda admired it. "It's pretty," she said.

                Julie nodded slowly. "I think I had one like it," she said slowly. "Not exactly like this one…" she closed her eyes. "An oval sapphire in the middle, and there were two teardrop-shaped sapphires on either side. And—I think—there were earrings to go with them."

                "There were," Amanda said suddenly. "When I found you, you had a pair of sapphire drop earrings with diamonds on them! I took them off because they were muddy and I wanted to clean them. I completely forgot until now!" She bit her lip. "I didn't see a ring on your finger, though. But there's a place on your right hand where one used to be."

                Julie looked down at her finger. Sure enough, there was a ring of paler skin against the slightly darker, more tanned skin of her right ring finger. He stared at it for a while, seeing in her mind's eye the same hand, with a sapphire ring around it. And another hand, rougher, bigger, more masculine, slipping the ring onto her finger. She couldn't see the face linked to that hand, but there were three peculiar bumps on the back of that hand. She'd recognize it if she ever saw it again.

                Amanda watched her closely. "Do you remember anything?" she asked when the blank, abstracted look left Julie's eyes.

                The girl shook her head, then hesitantly nodded. 'Sort of," she said. "For just a moment there I saw another hand putting a ring on my finger, but I can't see the person's face."

                She was silent as she followed Amanda out to her car. "Don't worry," Amanda said kindly as they drove home. "It will all come back sooner or later, Julie."

                She parked the car and helped Julie carry the bags into the house. As they went through the kitchen, she saw the light on her answering machine was blinking, and she hit the button. "Hey, Mandy," came Bruce's voice. "I'm coming in on the three o'clock flight from Athens. Come pick me up from the airport around five, will ya? Thanks babe." That was it. There was no 'I miss you' or 'I'm looking forward to seeing you.' Amanda bit her lip. He'd been away since just before Christmas; and he didn't miss her. Not for the first time, she wondered if he was seeing someone else, but she stubbornly pushed the thought aside. 

"Look, Julie," she said, poking her head into the spare bedroom, "My fiance wants me to pick him up from the airport. Will you be okay here? I'm taking Buster back to my mother's, so you don't need to worry about him."

"Buster isn't yours?" Julie looked surprised.

Amanda sighed. "Bruce doesn't like animals," she said. "I tried once, and he just kicked Buster around. My mother offered to take him after that. Since then, I drop him off with her whenever Bruce comes to town."

Julie made a face, but didn't voice what she was thinking. "I'll be fine here," she said. "Go on. I want to try on some of the stuff I got. And if you think it will help, I could start dinner."

Amanda grinned. "Would you? That would be a huge relief. I'm not going to have time to cook."

"Sure," Julie smiled agreeably. "Did you have anything planned? Or should I improvise?"

"I was going to make spaghetti for us, but Bruce doesn't like spaghetti. Whatever you feel like making is okay."

Julie helped her carry the dog bed, food, dishes, and toys out to the car, wondering what sort of person this Bruce Garrett was, that he didn't like dogs, or even let his future wife keep one. Maybe he was allergic, she thought, but it was still not fair. Just as she'd felt it wasn't fair when she wasn't allowed to have one growing up.

That particular bit of memory that she'd remembered last night seemed to trigger another memory, and she returned to her room and opened the notebook her hostess had given her to keep track of her thoughts in. There was the image of a smiling, bald man, sitting in a…chair? wheelchair?…she wasn't sure, but he'd been sitting when he told her no, she couldn't have a pet. She got the impression she had been much younger, though. Julie sat for a long time on the bed with the tags on her new clothes scratching her neck as she thought. Finally, sighing, she set the notebook aside and went downstairs.

She examined the refrigerator critically, took out a package of chicken breasts. As she took it out of the fridge, her body seemed to take over, and she felt like she was watching herself as she took butter, milk, and other ingredients out of the fridge and freezer.

It was getting dark by the time she was done, and she looked with some bemusement at the table. "Well, at least I know I can cook," she said to herself, looking with a certain amount of pride at the grilled chicken stir-fry. There was also a side of pasta in a creamy white cheese sauce and steamed frozen green beans tossed in a creamy mushroom sauce. Humming to herself, she washed the pots and pans she had used, dried them, and then sat down to wait for Amanda to get home with Bruce Garrett.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Amanda listened to the flight announcements anxiously as they were read over the airport's PA system. With some trepidation she heard them say, "Flight 254 from Athens, now disembarking at Gate 2."

                Shortly thereafter, she spotted Bruce coming out of the gate. She ran to him, threw her arms around him, and planted an enthusiastic kiss on his lips. "Bruce! Bruce, ooh, I'm so glad to see you! I missed you so much!"

                He hugged her stiffly, awkwardly, and then patted her back and said, "Here's my baggage check. Think you can claim my baggage for me? I'm tired. I'm going to wait in the car." He headed off across the parking lot as she headed in to the baggage claim.

                He had four bags, all heavy. A passing gentleman, walking by and seeing her struggle with the bags, said, "Can I help you, Ma'am?" She gratefully accepted his help, and he took two of the bags from her and carried them out to the car.

                She realized it was a mistake when they came up on the car and she saw Bruce glowering out the window. He got out and hurried to the man, exclaiming, "Darling! You should have told me you needed help! Thank you, Mister," he oozed unctuously. "My fiancee is one of those stubborn, independent types, she hates to ask anyone, even me, for help. Thank you for helping her out," and he dropped the two bags into the trunk, took the two bags Amanda was carrying effortlessly and did the same to them, then he slammed the trunk lid and brushed past the man as if he wasn't even there. Amanda stopped. "Thank you so much," she said, blushing. "I guess I just don't know my own limits, sometimes--"

                Bruce beeped the horn irritably. "Come on, Amanda," he said crossly. "I want to get home! I'm tired!" With a quick glance back at the man, Amanda got into the driver's side of the car and started the engine. 

                "What was that all about, huh?" Bruce said furiously. "You trying to make me look like an ass, huh? Did he ask if he could carry the bags, or did you ask him? I bet you did, huh?"

                Amanda kept her eyes on the road, concentrating so she wouldn't start crying. _He's probably just tired_, she thought to herself as she turned out of the airport and onto the main road. Bruce finally fell silent, and she took a deep breath. "We have a guest at the house," she began.

                Bruce turned to look at her. "We _what_?" And as she expected, he was off again, yelling at her now. "I come home from a long trip, expecting to come home and relax with my fiancee and enjoy the peace and quiet of my home, and now I find you've disrupted it with a _guest?_ Who is it?"

                Amanda said quietly, "I found her on Christmas Eve washed up on the boat landing. She was pretty badly hurt. By the cuts and bruises on her I thought she might be someone running from an abusive husband, so I took her in. I cared for her. She had a pretty bad gash on the back of her head, and when she finally woke up from her bout with pneumonia, we both discovered that the bump had erased her short-term memory. She can't remember who she is, or where she's from, or what happened to her, but she's started to remember bits and pieces of things. I was hoping maybe we could let her use the house until she regains her memory…or maybe we could take her to Snow Valley with us." She gripped the steering wheel hard in her hands and waited for the explosion.

                Bruce exploded. "Amanda, are you crazy? You took in a complete stranger who can't even remember her own damn name? What were you thinking? What if she's a thief? She's probably faking amnesia to get on your soft side so she can rob the house blind at the first opportunity! She most certainly cannot stay! Out she goes as soon as I get home!"

                Amanda subsided miserably in her seat. She should have known he would do that…she should have expected it. She had expected it…but it still came as a nasty surprise to her all the same.

                She opened the trunk after she got out of the car and grabbed two of the suitcases. Bruce grabbed the other two, and marched into the house and up the stairs without a word. Amanda shook her head quickly as Julie came into the hallway, and the girl looked somewhat disappointed. She retreated back into the kitchen as Amanda took the two suitcases she carried up to Bruce's room and dropped them by the door.

                Julie looked somewhat depressed as Amanda came in. "I'm sorry dear," Amanda said to her, biting her lip at the uncertain look in the girl's eyes. "I tried to talk to him, but he was completely against the idea. Maybe you could stay with my mother; she'd older, and she lives alone, and I'm sure she'd be glad of the company."

                Julie nodded, still looking depressed.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Bruce took his time unpacking. He could smell the dinner downstairs; it smelled delicious. He could just imagine Amanda's guest down there, eating the food Amanda had prepared, and he ground his teeth. Out she was going as soon as he got downstairs!

                He finished unpacking, finally, tossed his dirty clothes into the laundry hamper he had insisted Amanda put in his room, and headed down the stairs.

                He walked into the kitchen, and stopped in the door. His mouth fell open. That voice was familiar, though he'd only heard it a handful of times. It couldn't be…it couldn't be…but the girl at the sink turned around, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. The voice belonged to the one person he envied the most in the world; Dr. Jubilation Lee. An ugly yellow-green bruise marred one cheek, but it was definitely her!

                His mind raced. If what Amanda said was true, and she really didn't remember anything, then here was what he had been waiting for. He could get her to his labs in Snow Valley, take advantage of her powers, and get a few good papers out on her before she regained her memory! It was the opportunity he had wanted. He wanted her at his laboratory; this was perfect!

                He sat down at the table, stared at the dishes the girl placed on the table. "Hi," she said shyly to him. "My name's Julie. Actually, I don't know if that's my name or not; but it sounded pretty close."

                Bruce smiled widely. When he felt like it, he could be charming. "Well, Julie, Amanda and I are pleased to see you up and around. How are you feeling, my dear?"

                Behind him, Amanda froze, her jaw dropping. Was this _her_ Bruce, the one who had just vehemently said Julie couldn't stay? He didn't sound like the same guy!

                Julie blinked. He had changed his mind, apparently. And he was handsome. For a moment, as he had come down the kitchen steps, she had thought she recognized him, but the thought had fled almost immediately. She watched anxiously as he took a bite of the chicken and pasta, and smiled as he said, "This is wonderful. You are a very good cook. Where did you learn to cook, dear?"

                "I'm not sure," Dr. Lee…Julie, Bruce reminded himself…said. "I can't remember anything." Between bites, she told Bruce all about the last few days, including the little bit she had remembered, and the fact that Amanda thought she might be a mutant.

                "Back up," Bruce said finally. "You think you might be a mutant? And you know Latin?" he pretended to think. "Where do you think you learned Latin? Think maybe you're a doctor of some sort?"

                "I don't know, I might be," Julie said. She suddenly stiffened in her chair. In front of her eyes, an image appeared of little multi-colored sparks dancing on her palm. She stared at her hand, in disbelief, and willed it to happen. And then, just like she had seen, the tiny sparks began to make her hand glow.

                "Wow!" she said, startled, and the sparks went _paf!_ and disappeared. Bruce stared too, excitement rushing over him. He nearly missed her next words. "Did I just do that?"

                "You did indeed," he said, sitting back. And if you can do that, then maybe you are a doctor of some sort. Why don't you come to Massachusetts with me? Look around my lab, see if anything jogs your memory. My lab's mostly set up for physicists, but maybe something will look familiar."

                "Uh, wow, that's…really generous of you, Mr. Garrett," she said, blushing. "I don't have anywhere else to go, I can't remember if I know anyone else here, so if you really don't mind, I'd love to come with you."

                "Oh, not a problem! Amanda and I would love to have you! Wouldn't we, Amanda?" he said to her, snapping her out of her astonished gape. 

                "Uh…oh…yes…" Amanda blinked as Bruce got up and put his plate in the sink. 

                "Now, dear," Bruce said as he took Julie's shoulders and steered her up the stairs, "Do you have a suitcase to pack your things in…you do have things, right? Well then…." And his voice faded off as he took Julie upstairs. Amanda was left staring at the leftovers of dinner with bemusement. She'd been so flustered by Bruce's complete one-eighty that she hadn't even tasted her dinner as she ate it.


	4. Nightmare

Chapter 4: Nightmare

                Amanda was waiting for Bruce when he came back down the stairs about an hour later. "What the hell was that about?" she said, her voice tight with anger. "In the car you said she wasn't going to be able to stay. Now all of a sudden she's coming to Massachusetts with us!"

                Bruce raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, isn't that what you wanted?" he sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV, looking pleased with himself. "I'm just giving my lady love what she wants."

                "Come off it, Bruce," Amanda said angrily, stalking over to him and clicking off the TV. You never do anything without a purpose. You're not doing this to make me happy; you're doing this for some reason of your own. What is it?"

                Bruce dropped the charming façade. "I got my own reasons, okay, woman?" he snapped at her. "If you don't like it, tough. I don't have to explain anything to you."

                Amanda sat down on the couch beside him. "Bruce, I'm not trying to demand an explanation or anything, I just want you to tell me why you suddenly changed your mind," she said coaxingly. 

                Bruce sighed and switched the TV back on. "Look at those colored sparks she generates, Amanda. Those were atomic in origin. Think what kinds of research papers I could write if I could find out how she does that! The recognition, the awards! Why, I might be able to win a Nobel!"

                Amanda stared at him in disgust. "That's despicable, Bruce!"

                Bruce grinned. "People think the same about people in your profession using rats to test medicines and cures on," he said snidely. "So where's the difference if I use a mutant? They're not real people, anyway. They're an evolutionary aberration. Hey, when I'm done with her, maybe you might want to take her and examine her. I'm sure there must be some physical structures in her somewhere that allow her to do what she does."

                Amanda got off the couch and stormed out of the room, going up to her room and changing angrily into her nightclothes. She flung herself down on her bed angrily. Bruce was an asshole. He couldn't see that mutants were the same as everyone else, they just happened to be able to do things other people couldn't. She pulled the blanket over her head, trying to block out the image of Julie wired to one of Bruce's machines. Somehow or another, she was going to have to disrupt Bruce's plans. But how?

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Ororo parked her silver convertible outside the motorcycle shop and walked up to the door. When a few taps on the door produced no results, she ascended the metal stairs to the overhead space that Logan had said Moose lived in, and tapped at the door at the top of the steps.

                The door opened at her second knock, and Moose stood framed in the doorway. "Hello?" And then he blinked as he saw who was standing at his door. "Ororo?" he said incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

                "Logan said you were not feeling well when he came home early last night," she said, holding up an insulated zippered bag. "I made some of my chicken soup. Jubilee used to say it would cure anything. I decided to see if it would cure broken arms as well." She softened the joke with a smile.

                "Oh. Well, if you put it that way…" he stepped aside, waved her in, and closed the door behind him.

                Ororo looked around the loft space. It wasn't as small as it looked from the outside; in fact, it was fairly roomy. She supposed that was because of the scarcity of furniture. A bed sat against the wall in one corner near a window. There was a nightstand with a small table lamp beside it, and a dresser with clothes in it directly under the window. The opposite corner had been furnished to look like a kitchen. A solitary table and two chairs sat around it, and a refrigerator marked the divide between the kitchen and the living space. The living space contained a battered but comfortable-looking couch and a TV in a wooden entertainment center. There was nothing else in the loft but a threadbare rug near the door. It was all neat, in stark comparison to most of the bachelor places she had seen…and that included Logan's and Remy's, and even Bobby's room, back at the mansion.

                He shrugged. "It ain't like the fancy place you an' the little Lady live in, but it's home," he said quietly. "Me an' Lee like it."

                "Who's Lee?" Ororo asked curiously.

                There was a meowing at the door, and Moose opened it again, this time to admit a blue-eyed black cat. It wound around his ankles, purring, and he scooped it up, patting its head. "This is Lee," he said, holding the cat up so Ororo could see it. "She's got blue eyes, and black fur, an' I thought she looked like the little Lady, so I named her after Jubilee." He put the cat down, and it scampered across the loft to the kitchen area, where it pawed at a cabinet and meowed. He opened a cupboard, revealing clean dishes stacked inside, and took out two bowls. One he filled with water and placed on the floor. He reached into another cupboard and took out a can of cat food, opened it, and dropped its contents into the dish, and set that down in front of the cat as well. 

The cat meowed once and switched its attention to the food as Ororo stepped past it and set her bag down on the table. Opening it, she took out the covered container of soup and placed it on the table. Moose brought two bowls and two spoons to the table, and she poured out a generous portion of the soup and placed the bowl in front of Moose. "Here."

                He tasted it as she sat down and dipped her spoon into her own. "This is good," he said, grinning in surprise. "Wow, this is really, really good. The little Lady made me somethin' like this once, but she said it wasn't as good as your chicken soup. I tol' her she was jus' exaggeratin', but she said you really was a better cook, an' I guess she was right." He seemed a little more cheerful as he finished it, and she savored her portion as he finished his. 

                "Logan informed me that you got the casts removed today," she said when they had both finished and were sipping coffee that he made.

                "Yeah, an' about time," Moose growled. "I done had enough o' them itchin' my skin. Got a sore place on my shoulder where the edge o' the damn cast rubbed against my skin." He turned, and showed her the red, inflamed patch of skin on the back of his shoulderblade, just clearing the edge of his sleeveless tank top.

                Ororo got up and went around behind him, inspecting the skin. "Do you have anything to put on this?" she said.

                "Well, yeah, the hospital gave me some stuff, but it's kinda an awkward place to reach, and I can't manage the trick, so I jus' left it alone. It don' hurt that much, anyway, an' it'll heal faster if I leave it alone."

                Ororo _tsk_ed gently and went to get a paper towel from the roll hanging from the wall over the sink. "Now I know where Jubilee got that particular saying from," she chided him. "She used to say that all the time to me; she could not reach it, and she was too stubborn to ask someone for help, so she would pretend it did not bother her and leave it alone. She nearly contracted an infection once. She left an open wound alone and went out to work on her bike with Logan, and grime and motor grease got into it. After that, he started to check on her himself. If she did not do it herself, he would either make her do it or he did it for her himself." She finished cleaning the skin around the wound. "Where is the salve you received from the hospital?"

                "Oh, no, you don't have to, honest, Ororo…" but she placed a finger on his lips. He shrugged, and when she removed her finger he said, "In there, the cupboard over the sink. I got a first-aid kit down in the shop, in the bathroom, if that would help too." She nodded and made a motion, as if she were going to get up. He prevented her. "No, stay there. I'll get it."

                He returned a short while later with the white box in his arms, and sat back down as she opened the kit. She cleaned the area with an alcohol swab, then squeezed some of the salve from the tube onto his skin and rubbed it in with her fingertips, noting with some amusement the way he leaned back into her touch. _Poor man,_ she mused as she carefully taped a white gauze pad over the raw area. _He doesn't have anyone else to do this for him._

                As if reading her mind, he said sheepishly, "The little Lady used to do stuff like this for me all the time, but she's…gone…and there ain't nobody else who cares enough."

                "I care," Ororo said gently, washing her hands in the sink. "Jubilee cared for you a great deal. The least I can do is pick up where she left off."

                "I don't…I don't want you to feel like you have to," Moose said awkwardly, twisting the kitchen towel around in his fingers.

                "I do not 'have' to," Ororo said, packing the now-empty dish back into the bag she'd brought it in. "I came here tonight because I wanted to. I would comfort Logan if I could, but he does not wish me to 'fuss over him', as he puts it. Jubilee is…no longer here…for me to care for, or for you to care for." She lapsed into silence as she collected the empty dishes and placed them in the sink. "It seemed to make sense to me to 'fuss over' you, since you seem to need it."

                "I don't need it…" he started, and she gave him such a look from under her long lashes that he started to chuckle helplessly. "The little Lady used to give me that same look," he said when he finally stopped laughing, "whenever she thought I'd said something especially stupid." He sobered, looked at her thoughtfully. "If that's what you want to do, 'Ro, then go on ahead. Not as if I could stop you anyway; never had much luck stopping pretty ladies from doing whatever they wanted to do."

                She blushed, and was prevented from answering by the sight of Lee tugging at the corner of the carpet. "Lee!" Moose lunged for the cat, but she scampered out of his way, dragging the carpet with her, and Ororo saw the brownish-red stain that marred the floor there.

                "What happened here?" Ororo looked at the stain.

                "It's the little Lady's blood," Moose said. "She tangled with that gang called the Bloody Eagles, an got hurt bad…Logan an I went looking for her, found her here...it was last year, right before she…died…" Ororo nodded. 

                "I remember that," she said. "Logan said that you said he should take her to a hospital, and he told you that we had better medical facilities at home than the hospital had."

                "Yes, well…" Moose's cheeks turned pink. "I didn't know then that you guys were the X-Men," he said.

Ororo gave him a narrow-eyed look. "No, Jubilee didn't tell me," he said, "I figured it out when I saw the fancy place she and Logan lived in, and when I saw her saving that plane full of people. Don't worry, I wouldn't tell a soul; she'd probably come back to haunt me if I did!"

Ororo chuckled, albeit a bit sadly. "She probably would," she said quietly. 

"I didn't know how to get it out of the floor, so I just pull the rug over it." He looked at the stain sadly. "It's all I have of her...except this," and he pulled his dog tags out of his shirt, and she saw the tiny circle of gold on it. "Logan told me I could keep it."

"He wears her engagement ring around his dog tag chain," Ororo said softly, touching the little circle of gold. "It is odd that you do so as well." She dropped the ring, looking up into the eyes of the man who treasured it so much. "She will never be gone, really, as long as you remember her."

"And you remember her, too," Moose said softly. 

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Amanda's eyes flew open. For just a moment she wasn't sure what had woken her, but then it came again. Julie's scream. She sprang out of bed and flung open her door, ran down the hall, and stopped in Julie's bedroom door in shock.

                Julie was writhing in the bed, her face twisted in pain. As Amanda watched, she curled up, as if she'd been punched in the stomach, and then she arched her back, screaming again, every muscle in her body pulled tight in agony. "No…" The cry was full of remembered pain. "No, Creed, please don't, not again, please stop, you're hurting me, stop it, stop it…"

                Amanda bit her lip, tears filling her eyes. Whatever had happened to her friend had to have been terrible, to have caused her such pain. She was about to go over to the bed, to try and wake her up from the nightmare, when Bruce pushed past her. "Wake up," he said, none too gently to the straining, gasping figure on the bed. "Wake up. You're disturbing my sleep!"

                Julie punched the air in front of her, her fist narrowly missing Bruce's cheek. He grabbed her wrist to keep her from punching him again, and she went wild in the bed, screaming incoherently. Amanda said from the door, "Bruce, let go of her wrist. She doesn't like anything touching her wrists!"

                Bruce grabbed her other wrist. "What, you want me to let go so she can punch me again?" He shook his head. "Uh-uh." He pinned the struggling girl down to the bed with his body weight as he snapped, "Wake up!"

                Julie's eyes remained tightly shut, and she didn't respond. If anything, her struggles increased, and Bruce nearly fell off the bed as she twisted wildly under him. He transferred both thin wrists to his other hand, and before Amanda could stop him, he had slapped Julie's face hard enough to leave a reddened imprint of his hand on her pale cheek. She froze, then with a burst of strength Amanda didn't know she had, she threw Bruce off her body and flung herself out of bed, crawling across the floor to the corner of the room and curling up on the floor. 

Amanda went to kneel beside her, staying out of the girl's personal space, and said the name, "Logan." Julie's body froze, and the soft whimpering sounds she was making stopped abruptly. Amanda said it again. "Logan."

Two more repetitions of the name, and Julie was quiet, sleeping soundly and dreamlessly. Bruce gaped at her as Amanda slid an arm under Julie's arm and half-dragged, half-carried the sleeping girl back to the bed. Dropping her onto the bed, she straightened the sheets and pulled the blanket up to cover her again. Bruce had enough sense at least to remain silent as Amanda tucked her in, then turned and followed her out of the room. He didn't say a word until she had closed the room door.

"What was that all about?" He snapped, thankfully quietly.

Amanda leaned against Julie's bedroom door. "When I found her she was a wreck. She'd been brutally raped and beaten, is my guess, judging from the marks all over her body. There were marks on her wrists that looked like someone had tied rope around them, and she couldn't stand anything touching them. She spent two weeks lying in that bed up there suffering from delirium and fever. I could barely get her calmed down enough to put salve on the rope burns on her wrists. 

"She had nightmares like the one you just saw. She'd scream and cry, and I couldn't touch her while she was in the middle of one of them. Whenever I touched her she'd start fighting. One night I remembered she had a tattoo on her hip of the name 'Logan.' I spoke the name, and she calmed down and went back to sleep."

"Yeah, well, a good slap would do the trick too," he grumbled as he started to walk away.

Amanda grabbed his arm. "No it doesn't. It just makes her cry and withdraw into herself. You saw it. Nothing wakes her when she has one of these nightmares; she just has to calm down and get back to sleep. And the only thing that calms her down is that name. But she never remembers the dreams in the morning. Sometimes I think that's a good thing...I can't imagine how she's going to feel when she finally remembers whatever happened to her." Amanda shook her head and went off down the hall toward her own room. 

She woke with sunlight streaming in the window. For a moment she wondered why  she'd slept so late, then the memory of the events of the night before came back to her and she jumped out of bed.

She dressed quickly and went downstairs, noting as she went that Bruce's room door was still closed. So he was sleeping late too. Good. She'd have a chance to talk to Julie before Bruce did.

Julie was downstairs cooking breakfast when Amanda came in. Eggs were cooking in one pan, and bacon sizzled merrily in a skillet on the other burner. Julie herself was sitting at the table, sipping coffee and staring abstractedly into space. There were dark circles under her normally bright blue eyes, and she looked tired.

"Morning," Amanda said, going to the coffee maker. "No, no, just sit, dear, you had a rough night last night. I'll get my own coffee," she said. As she stirred her cream into her cup, she looked searchingly at Julie. "How do you feel?"

"Not good," the girl confessed. "I had another nightmare last night, didn't I?" Amanda nodded, and Julie pressed her lips together. "I sort of remember Bruce coming into the room, and slapping me," she said. "But you were the one who calmed me down. I don't remember the dream, though." She sipped her coffee. "Amanda, do you have any idea what happened to me?"

Amanda sat down heavily. She knew, but she didn't want to tell Julie. Not out of any sense of meanness, but because she didn't think the girl was ready to hear about it. From what she'd heard Julie scream in her sleep, Julie would need to have people she knew and trusted around her to help her when she finally did remember what happened. "I don't know," she said slowly, as if she were thinking. "You cry a lot in your sleep, but I don't know what happened, apart from what I deduced from the injuries you had." She looked into her coffee. "I'm sorry." She didn't look at the girl as she spoke, worried that Julie would see the lie.

Julie shrugged. "It's not your fault," she said quietly. "But maybe I shouldn't go with you to Massachusetts. Maybe I should stay here. Maybe someone's looking for me somewhere."

"But Amanda said the name Snow Valley brought some kind of memory back," Bruce said, coming into the kitchen. "If you come with us, we can maybe figure out why it's familiar."

"I guess," Julie looked dubious, as Amanda gave Bruce an odd look. He ignored it and sat at the table, demolishing a plate of eggs and bacon with more appetite than Amanda had ever seen. Because his head was bent over the plate, neither girl saw the triumphant grin on his face.


	5. A Personal Favor

Chapter 5: Personal Favor

                The airport was busy, crowded with people and bustling with life. Julie looked around at everything as she carried her one small bag and one of Bruce's capacious bags in her other hand. Amanda, walking along beside her lugging her own suitcase and another of Bruce's bags, watched her carefully for any other sign of her remembering anything. "It looks familiar," she said, her forehead wrinkling, "But I don't know why."

                Bruce sighed. "Stop gawking, girls," he snapped impatiently. "We have to catch the flight."

                Julie looked rather wistfully at Amanda. "I wish you were going to be coming with us all the way," she said quietly.

                Amanda patted her shoulder. "I wish I could, too," she said. "But I really have to attend this conference in Paris. All the leading biogeneticists will be there, and information will be exchanged there which I need to complete the paper I'm writing at the labs. I really should go to Paris from here, but I can catch a plane to Paris from Massachusetts. It's not a problem. And I'm sure Bruce will take good care of you, show you the house and all, and get you settled in."

                They boarded the plane, and a friendly flight attendant helped them find their seats. "Going off to another conference, Dr. Lee?" she said to Julie as she helped them stow Bruce's huge carryon into an overhead compartment.

                "What?" Julie looked at the flight attendant. "I'm sorry, I don't recognize you."

                "You are Dr. Lee, aren't you?" the woman said, puzzled. "I saw you the last time about six months ago, going off to a conference in…San Francisco, I think it was."

                "I don't remember, honestly, I don't," Julie said, looking hard at the flight attendant. "I had some sort of accident, and I got a bump on the head, and I don't remember anything, even my name. My friends here are trying to help, but if you know anything, please tell me!" she grabbed the flight attendant's sleeve earnestly.

                "Why, sure, honey," the flight attendant said. "Wait until I get the other passengers seated, and then I'll come back and talk to you."

                Julie sat down. "She knows me!" she exclaimed delightedly. "And she might be able to tell me who I am!" Amanda nodded to her, and then, out the corner of her eye, she saw Bruce open her bag and take out one of her syringes, fill it with liquid from one of her bottles, and slipped the needle into Julie's arm. She slumped over a second later, bonelessly, and Bruce leaned across Amanda and fastened Julie's seatbelt.

                "Bruce!" Amanda stared at him, appalled. "What did you do that for?"

                He smiled at her, a nasty grin, and said, "I don't want her regaining her memory before we get to the labs and I can analyze her powers. You see, Amanda, I know who she is. I've met her before. She's a fairly well-known physicist, as well as a mutant. She's been using her powers to write her papers, and she's gained recognition in the field. I've been wanting to study her for some time; but she turned down my offer. Now I have her…and I'm not going to pass up the opportunity." He sat back in his seat.

                Amanda stared at him, her face white. She knew Bruce could be a manipulative, deceitful asshole, but she'd never dreamed he'd sink this low! Using a helpless young girl to further his career…the idea made her want to throw up. She opened her mouth to speak again, and Bruce grabbed her arm in a grip so tight she was sure her wrist bones were going to shatter. "Don't…say…a…word," he said, his voice low and angry. "Not a word, Amanda, got it? I'm fairly well known…so is my father. Say one word, and you'll not only be banned from my labs, but your precious research will go out the window and you'll be banned from every laboratory everywhere. You'll be finished. You'll never write another paper; I'll see to that. Your career will be over. Do you really want to give up all that for a stranger, someone you didn't even know a month ago? Do you?"

                Slowly, reluctantly, Amanda shook her head. She wasn't willing to throw her life away for Julie.

                _But you know this isn't right, _said a nagging voice in her head.

                No, it wasn't, but she had a right to her life. Didn't she? _Sure...but so does Julie._

Who was Julie, anyway? A stranger who didn't even know her own name, who didn't even know who her friends were, who didn't know where she lived, or what had happened to her. She didn't owe Julie anything.

_But she needs help. You of all people know how ruthless Bruce can be._

She did indeed. But Julie would eventually remember who she was, and what happened to her, and then she'd get herself away from Bruce. Amanda silenced the nagging voice in her head and turned her attention back to her book. When the flight attendant came back to speak with Julie, she even had the nerve to smile and slip a pillow under Julie's head, as though the girl had merely fallen asleep.

The plane alighted at the Massachusetts airport as Julie was waking up. Still groggy from the knockout drug Bruce had injected her with, she made very little protest when he packed her and her suitcase into the backseat of his rental car. As Amanda helped him put his bags in the trunk, she said to Bruce, "You're not going to hurt her, are you? Bruce, she's been through enough pain."

"Oh, no, I'm not going to hurt her! What an idea," he lied, kissing Amanda on the lips. "When are you going to be back, honey? We need to talk about the wedding."

Amanda bit her lip. She wasn't sure now she wanted to marry Bruce. She put the thought aside, and said, "I should be home in three days. Can you and Julie handle things at the house while I'm gone?"

"Sure," Bruce pulled open the car door and hopped into the driver's side. Amanda watched them go with a great deal of misgiving, but she didn't have much time to speculate. She had to catch the plane to Paris.

She sat in her seat, looking out the window at the clouds below the plane, and thought. She wasn't sure now that she wanted to marry Bruce. When she had first met him, she had thought him charming, handsome, and generous. He had kept up the façade for most of the beginning of their relationship, and she had accepted his marriage proposal with happiness. Her former marriage had been less than happy, and she had thought that marrying Bruce would be totally different.

Then he had started to gradually move in on her, taking control of her life, her research, and even her friends. He had even taken credit for some of her research, as thought he were the one who had done the work. He hadn't. His field was physics; her field was biology. She was quite upset when she overheard, at one conference, someone say that Bruce must indeed be intelligent, to be able to hold degrees for two fields of research at once. It had taken all her self-control not to blurt out that she had done the research, not him, and had written the paper they had been discussing. Bruce had told her to put his name on it as well because it was his labs she had used to achieve her results.

As upset as she had been, it wasn't enough to make her want to break up with him. Their engagement was duly announced to the social circles Bruce and his parents circulated in, and though some of her own friends had told her, privately, that she was being an idiot for marrying him, she''d stubbornly stuck to her decision, and hadn't really regretted it…until she met Julie. 

She had lied to Julie; she was pretty sure she knew at least the bare bones of what had happened to her. Julie had been kidnapped, assaulted and beaten by someone named Creed. Someone named 'Logan' had been looking for Julie; but she didn't know anything about the man, except that Julie loved him passionately. That love was why Amanda found herself questioning her engagement to Bruce. Was she just getting married to him because he had what she wanted...a fully equipped lab? Was she just getting married to him because she was nearly thirty-five and had nothing to show for it? Was it because she was tired of living in tiny apartments and filing for grants to do what she wanted to do? Was she getting married because she wanted…had always wanted, and never had…kids?

She didn't know anymore. Was her own life, hopes, and dreams worth sacrificing Julie to Bruce's mercies? Did she have the right to sacrifice Julie's life, whatever it had been and whatever it might still be, for her own needs and desires? This Logan that Julie loved so fiercely…was he out there looking for her? Did she have the right to block Julie's chance at happiness for a chance at her own?

She was still wrestling with those questions when the plane landed in Paris. She disembarked, collected her bags, and chose a pretty little hotel down a picturesque little street. With Bruce's money, she could have afforded the much more expensive Hotel Paris which was where the conference was actually going to be held, but she preferred the smaller bed-and-breakfasts. She paid for the room, took her luggage up there herself, and lay exhausted on the bed for a nap.

She awoke, feeling less tired but still wrestling with her dilemma a few hours later. She pulled her bags onto the bed and opened the first one. This had her paperwork and underclothes in it; she always packed them together. Then she pulled the other bag onto the bed and opened it. This should have her clothes and suits.

To her utter shock, when she opened the bag, she didn't see any of her things in it. Instead she saw Bruce's underclothes and personal effects; toothbrush, toothpaste, and, tucked away in the corner, a plastic bag with something bright pink in it. She reached for it, hesitated. She shouldn't; Bruce would be so mad if he knew she was going through her personal things. But curiosity overcame her hesitation, and she opened the bag. 

Inside was a bright pink, garish lace teddy, generously scented with a strong, cheap perfume she didn't recognize. It was certainly not the kind of scent she ever wore; in fact, because of her allergies, she didn't wear perfume at all. Besides the teddy there was a matching lace thong and high heels in a size too big for her, and then, in the bottom of the bag, she found an envelope, unopened. She opened it.

There was a letter inside. She read it, the blood draining from her face:

_My very dear Brucie!_

_Ooh, I know, you're so surprised to see this! But I wanted to give you a souvenir of the good times we had and I wanted you to know you really were great! I love you, and I can't wait for you to get back into town. I hope you can make another excuse soon to that dumpy, prissy little fiancée you have and come sneak out to see me here in Las Vegas. Here. I'm giving you back the money you gave me for the week we spent together because you were so good! _

_Can't wait to see you again,_

_Candie_

                Amanda dropped the letter and envelope as she stared numbly at the money in the envelope. Two thousand dollars! Bruce had given 'Candie' two thousand dollars to spend a week with him in Vegas! Anger forced a rush of heat to her face, and she threw the envelope and the money into the suitcase and slammed it closed, swearing furiously.

                Bruce had been lying to her, all along. He said he had to go to conferences, and instead he was cheating on her with cheap (or not so cheap) whores. Two thousand damn dollars!

                "That's it," she snarled. "There is no way I'm marrying him!" she yanked the gold and diamond ring off her finger and put it into the plastic case with his toothbrush inside. The damn worthless, no-good scum! Her first husband had never done this to her; Dave had been kind, and he loved her; he just couldn't deal with being apart form her for the conferences, and he wanted more time from her than she could give him, with her research and all. But he'd never cheated on her.

                She lay awake that night, putting together a plan. She would take the two thousand dollars. He didn't even know it was in there, after all. When she got home, she would break the engagment and go her own way, find another apartment and live there instead. If she had to, she'd get a job teaching or something to get her through until she could find another research position somewhere. And if she never did, that would be okay too; she liked children, had thought about teaching a while ago.

                With that resolution in mind, she got dressed for the first evening, where speakers would be introduced. She was so wrapped up in her own plans it was something of a shock when that nagging voice in the back of her head said to her, _What about Julie?_ as she was brushing out her short chestnut curls.

                She put the brush down, staring stricken at her reflection in the mirror. She knew Bruce. She knew what he was capable of. She couldn't leave Julie with Bruce, but there was no way Amanda could earn enough to support both Julie and herself. And until the girl regained her memory, she couldn't get a job to help. The thought crossed her mind that she could just walk away, but she pushed that selfish thought away. She wasn't leaving Julie with Bruce.

                She was still trying to find a solution as she got into a taxi that would take her to the Hotel Paris, but she had to push her thoughts aside when she walked into the room, She was only half paying attention to the speakers as they were introduced, so it was with some surprise that she heard the name Dr. Henry McCoy announced. She sat up straight as an idea occurred to her.

                Dr. McCoy was a former member of the Avengers. Perhaps she could talk to him, ask him if they could get the Avengers to break Julie out of Bruce's labs. She was, after all, a mutant, like them, and they might be interested in helping out a fellow mutant. And Julie had powers; perhaps they might consider letting her join them when she regained her memory!

                But Dr. McCoy seemed to be the feature speaker of the evening, and as they all filed out of the auditorium, she found him surrounded by other speakers, and no matter how she tried, she couldn't get close to him. She decided to try again the next day.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Hank adjusted his glasses and sighed as he picked up another fragile glass of champagne in his hand. The image inducer was working well; it hadn't so much as hiccupped once while he was talking to all those dignitaries and other geneticists. He took a sip of the champagne, admired the vintage, and was about to take another sip when a hand timidly touched his arm. "Dr. McCoy?"

                He turned. "Ah, Dr. Amanda Greene, I'm quite pleased to finally meet you," he said, courteously extending a hand to her. "I read your last paper on the possibility of detecting the mutant gene at birth; the reasoning was quite sound."

                "Thank you," Amanda blushed. "I'm surprised you knew it was mine; almost everyone thinks it was my fiance's work…well, ex-fiance," she said, blushing quickly. "I know we've just met, but I have something I really need to speak with you about, and I think it ought to be in private."

                He took her off to a corner of the room that was half-screened by a lot of potted plants and fake trees, and waited politely for her to speak. Flustered, Amanda blurted out, "I need to ask you for a personal favor."

Hank looked at her gravely. "My dear, I hardly think an aquaintanceship of a few minutes entitles you to a personal favor from me. I fail to see what kind of service I could render you. Please excuse me." 

He was about to leave when Amanda said desperately, "Wait, please, wait. It's not a favor for me, its for…well…it's for a friend of mine who's a mutant. All I need is a way to contact the Avengers."

He turned back to her, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. "Why do you need them?"

Amanda, relieved that he hadn't walked away, spoke so quickly her words came tumbling out on top of each other. "I found this girl washed up in the backyard of my—well, my ex-fiance's home in New York," she said. "She's suffering from amnesia; Bruce Garrett, my fiancé, is going to take advantage of her condition. He took her up to his labs in Massachusetts and is planning to wire her up and…and…study her, because she has this weird ability to generate subatomic particles. He wants to use her, and I don't think that's right."

"It's never 'right' to take advantage of another human being," Hank McCoy said severely. "I will see what I can do. Can you give me your name, and a phone number where you can be reached, and I will see what I can do?"

Amanda felt a rush of relief color her face pink, and she scrabbled in her tiny purse for a pen and scribbled her cell phone number on a nearby cocktail napkin. He took it and was about to say something when another guest walked up to Dr. McCoy and said, "Dr. McCoy, we'd like your opinion over here in this conversation we're having…" and he was drawn away to another knot of people as Amanda watched.

As she packed her things that night, she decided she wasn't going to leave Bruce just yet. Not until she knew Julie was safely out of his reach. She would go home, pretend everything was fine, and when the Avengers showed up to get Julie, then she would leave. But only then. She wasn't going to desert her friend.                


	6. The Lab

Chapter 6: The Lab

                Hank put his bags down in his room at the mansion and unpacked, thinking about the strange request he had received. He wanted to dismiss it all as a hoax, but Dr. Greene had been quite earnest about her request, and a little voice in his head was telling him he shouldn't ignore it. Finally, unable to decide, he went in search of Xavier.

                Xavier looked up as Hank came into his study. "Hank! I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow," he said. "How was the conference?"

                "The same as always," Hank said. "Charles, I was approached by another doctor at the conference, Dr. Amanda Greene. She has had some good research papers published in some respectable journals, her choice of company notwithstanding." At Charles's blank look, he said, "She is supposed to marry Bruce Garrett at the end of the month."

                "Bruce Garrett? I am surprised," Xavier said dryly. "He's not the nicest person in the world."

                "No, he is not," Hank said. "Do you remember Jubilee telling us that he wished her to come up to his laboratory in Snow Valley Massachusetts to 'work' with him?"

                "Yes," Xavier said.

                "Well, apparently he made sure he could get what he wanted," Hank said grimly. "Dr Greene told me Mr. Garrett has 'acquired' a mutant with the ability to manipulate subatomic particles, and has extended an involuntary invitation to reside at the laboratory for the duration of the study. The mutant is apparently suffering from amnesia."

                Xavier stared at Hank. "That's a complete breach of research ethics," he said in shock. "He doesn't think he's actually going to get away with this, does he?"

                "Apparently he does," Hank said, adjusting his glasses. "Dr. Greene asked me to contact the Avengers and request that they consider 'liberating' this mutant from the laboratory. I told her I would take her request under consideration, and she gave me what I believe to be her cellphone number."

                Xavier rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I believe maybe the X-men might be better suited to this task that the Avengers," he said. "Do you know where this lab is?"

                Hank looked at Xavier over his glasses. "No, I don't, he said. "But finding the location shouldn't be difficult. It's in Snow Valley."

                "Massachusetts?" Xavier chuckled. "It will not be hard, indeed."

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Bruce showed Julie around the labs, puzzled but not overly concerned when she said she didn't feel any memories returning. The medical section was in the back of the building, and he swiped his card to open the doors. She walked around, looking at  the well-appointed space, the well-stocked cabinets, and turned to Bruce. "This is all very impressive, Bruce,' she said, "But I don't think this is where I belong. None of this is bringing up any new memories."

                Bruce took her arm and tried to steer her toward a section of the lab used for experiments. Sensing something wrong, she nervously tried to shake off his grip. "I should really be going," she said. 

                Bruce dropped his charming, nice-guy façade, and snapped his fingers behind his back. The two security guards standing by the doors came forward and grabbed her arms.

                "Bruce? What's going on?" Julie looked troubled.

                "Oh, nothing," he said airily. "I'm just going to make you the subject of my next paper."

                She started to struggle, but it was much too late.

                A metal collar snapped around her neck, and she was dragged, struggling, over to where a flat table lay half under a massive MRI machine. Julie struggled, but she couldn't fight the guards as they forced her to lie down on the table. When she tried to get right back up, Bruce sighed. "Looks like restraints will be necessary," he said. She screamed in terror and panic as the guards began to pull heavy nylon straps from under the table and buckled them around her wrists. "No! Please, not my wrists, I can't stand anything on them, please…" but they didn't listen, instead going to her waist and buckling the heavy strap around it, then doing the same thing to her ankles. She stared at the tiny aperture in the machine, the narrow tube she was shortly going to be in, and begged Bruce, "Please, I'm…I'm claustrophobic, I can remember being confined to a tiny space, like this, please…" but the table slid inexorably into the tiny space, and her pleas turned to terrified shrieks.

                Bruce rolled his eyes. "Stop her making that noise," he snapped at the two security guards. They pulled the table back out from under her and slapped a piece of surgical tape over her mouth. Thus effectively silenced, they slid her table back into the tube and Bruce scanned her with the machine.

                "I don't see any physical abnormalities," he muttered to himself after almost a half hour of staring at cross sections of her body under the scanner. "Take her over to the electroshock machine," he said. "Let's stimulate parts of her brain with electroshocks directly to her cranial nerves and see if the brain-mapping technique I theorized really can work."

                Julie's face was streaked with tears when they slid the table out from under the machine. They didn't bother unstrapping her; they pushed the whole table itself over to the electroshock machine. A helmet bristling with electrodes was placed over her head, and Bruce turned on the machine. When it was humming and ready, he took the red and black positive and negative leads and clipped them to one of the electrodes on the helmet.

                Julie convulsed, her face twisting in pain, and her mouth worked under the tape. She tried to scream, but nothing came out except a muffled cry. Bruce paid no attention, watching the display as sections of her brain slowly started to fill with green as the computer marked the sections already mapped. By the time he finished, Julie was shaking in pain, and barely conscious. 

                Bruce snapped his fingers, and the two security guards unstrapped her. They half-dragged, half-carried the stumbling girl over to the room where banks of cages held the mice and rats used in the experiments. Bruce indicated a larger cage, six feet high, four feet wide, and six feet long. It was made of the same metal the collar around her neck was made of. "Leave her in there," he said carelessly. "She can't get out; I don't think she's even capable of trying right now."

                The doctors and lab technicians looked up as the bell rang for the closing of the lab, and Bruce locked the lab animal room as the light went down, leaving the girl sitting in the cage in darkness.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Amanda dropped her bags in her room and looked around. Nothing had changed since she'd last seen it.

                She was alone in the house; this early in the morning, obviously, Bruce had gone to the labs, but she wondered where Julie was. Oh, well. She unpacked her bag and then tiptoed to Bruce's room and put his bag under his bed. He'd already replaced his toothbrush and toothpaste, she noticed as she passed the bathroom. She lay back on the bed, closed her eyes for a moment. _Just a few minutes, then I'll get up and go down to the labs…_

                When she opened her eyes next, it was to the sound of a door slamming downstairs. She ran down the stairs and stopped short as she saw Bruce coming in the door. Only Bruce. No Julie. "Bruce, where's Julie?" she said in surprise.

                "Oh Amanda, I didn't know you were coming home today!" he said. "I thought it was tomorrow!"

                "It was supposed to be tomorrow," Amanda said, crossing her arms where she stood on the stairs, "but a seat opened up on an earlier flight, and I wanted to come home and see if Julie was adjusting okay."

                Bruce smiled…a bit nervously, Amanda thought. "She's fine, Amanda, don't be such a worrywart. She decided to stay at the labs to do some work." 

                Amanda looked past him to the clock in the hall. "It's almost four o'clock!" She said. "She shouldn't be tiring herself out like that!" she ran upstairs, grabbed her purse, and rummaged around in it for her keys. "I'm going to go talk her into coming home for the night. I'll be back soon--" and she bumped squarely into Bruce.

                "You're not going anywhere, Amanda," he snapped nastily, grabbing her arm.

                "Bruce! Let go of me!" she yelled at him, trying to shake off his grip.

                He refused to let go, grabbing her arm and practically dragging her back into her room. He shoved her roughly into the room and slammed the door. "You're not going anywhere!"

                "Oh yes I am!" Amanda slammed her body against the door he was leaning on, and felt it give a little. She hurled herself at the door again, and this time Bruce lost his balance and fell over. The door opened with a crash. She ran down the hall, then turned as she reached the steps. "Bruce, take this ring and shove it," she snarled at him. "I don't know what I ever saw in you!"

                She ran down the stairs, out the door, and was in her car before Bruce could get into his. She roared off down the road, heading for the labs. She was stopped at a red light, in the middle of traffic, when her cellphone rang. She flipped it open. "Hello?"

                "Ms. Greene?" came a polite male voice.

                "Yes?" she said, tapping her foot impatiently on the brake.

                "Where is Garrett Industries' lab building?"

                She perked up. "Who is this?"

                "A friend. Where is it?"

                The traffic light turned green, and she floored the pedal. "1800 Garrett Lane," she said. "You can't miss it, the whole road's named for the Garretts. Who is this?" But the line went dead. She put the cellphone back in her purse, hoping fervently that Dr. McCoy had told the Avengers about her request and they were on the way.

                She turned onto Garrett Lane and parked in front of the building. She wasn't planning on being there long; just long enough to get Julie out. She flashed her badge at the old security guard behind the desk, then ran back into the darkened lab space.

                The laboratory was only two stories tall, but it covered nearly nine acres of land. The medical labs were toward the rear of the building, and she raced for it with a pounding heart. She swiped her card into the door, waited impatiently for it to open, then stopped short. It was empty. 

                Where was Julie? Amanda tried to think where she would be. After a moment, she snapped her fingers. The lab animal room! Of course! She headed toward the back of the labs to where the door was, and tried it. It was locked. She rattled the doorknob in frustration.

                Behind her, the door opened, and she turned, to see Bruce standing there with three security guards; the one who had been watching the door and two se recognized as being internal security. Not really security; they didn't have weapons permits or anything, they were just there to take care of any problems that might arise with the equipment, the lab subjects, and the occasional protesters that picketed the facility because of their use of mice and rats as subjects. Amanda had never been a fan of using the rodents, but some of the cures and medicines they had developed had worked, so she was willing to concede their uses.

                Bruce snapped, "You should have left well enough alone, Amanda. What do you care about one little mutant, anyway? She's nothing to you. You didn't even know she existed two months ago. Think it over. Is all this," his gesture took in the entire facility, "worth the trouble you're going to be in if you're caught stealing lab property? She is property now, you know. My lab property."

                Amanda snorted as she looked through her keyring, looking for the key that opened up the animal room. "Come off it, Bruce," she snapped. "Julie is a human being. She's not property. In case you didn't realize it, slavery went out last century. People don't own other people anymore."

                "Well, maybe it should be instituted again," and Amanda found her elbows grabbed by the two security guards. "Now what should I do with you," Bruce mused aloud.

                The back wall of the lab blew in.

                Standing framed in the opening was a group of mutants Amanda recognized from TV as the X-Men. The X-Men? She'd asked Dr. McCoy for the Avengers!

                But she wasn't about to complain.

                The short, feral, snarling mutant in the yellow suit with black slashes was Wolverine. The tall redhead and the muscled, handsome brown-haired man were Cyclops and Phoenix. She only had a vague idea who the others were, but they were all looking ready to fight.

                Wolverine stepped forward. "What ya gonna do with her?" he snapped at Bruce. "How 'bout nothin'?" there was a sharp _snikt!_ And menacing ten-inch long adamantium claws popped out of his knuckles. Amanda stared at them as he advanced on the two security guards holding Amanda's arms. They, having no weapons, turned and ran.

                The remaining security guard drew his gun and held it out at arm's length. When Wolverine didn't back down, he fired.

                Amanda watched in amazement as the red-haired woman formed some kind of glittering forcefield in front of Wolverine, and the bullets bounced harmlessly off the shield onto the floor. The security guard kept firing, however, until the hammer clicked on an empty chamber. Wolverine continued to advance, and he suddenly dropped the gun, turned, and fled. Bruce turned to run, too, but was stopped as  the glittering forcefield formed around him and lifted him several feet off the floor.

                Amanda walked up to him. "Give me the keys to the animal room, Bruce," she snapped. He crossed his arms.

                Wolverine poked his claws easily through the force bubble, and slashed the leg of Bruce's pants. "Wanna rethink that, bub?"

                Bruce couldn't get the keys out of his pocket fast enough.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Logan almost sighed, disappointed. He needed to work out some anger, and he'd been hoping this mission would provide the distraction he desperately needed from the empty room. When Chuck had mentioned security guards, he'd been hoping for a fight. Looked like he wasn't going to get that here.

                The brown-haired woman he recognized from Hank's description as Amanda Greene, the one who had tipped off Hank to the fact that Bruce Garrett had found a mutant to experiment on, like he'd threatened Jubilee a while back. She seemed to be having trouble with the door. He stepped forward and drove his claws through the doorknob, breaking the locks, and she stepped into the darkened room. Storm followed as he felt for a light switch. 

                The smell of animals hit him almost as soon as the door opened, and for a moment it overwhelmed the other scent in the room. Logan sniffed, and his eyes widened. It couldn't be! She was dead! Maybe it was just his senses tricking him…He stepped into the room.

                In the far corner of the room Amanda Greene was fiddling with the lock on the door of a metal cage, in which a woman slept with her back to the door. Logan gave a cry as he saw the dark hair and thin figure, and smelled that scent. There was only one person it could be.

                "**_JUBILEE_**…!" he cried out, running past Amanda Greene and slashing apart the cage to reach the woman inside. He took her in his arms, cradling her as he whispered her name, over and over, his breath coming in ragged sobs from somewhere deep in his chest. It was too much. To hold her, alive and breathing, in his arms when for the last few months he had thought her dead…relief and joy overwhelmed him, and he buried his face in her hair and cried, and he didn't care who saw him cry. "Jubilee, Jubilee, darlin', yer alive, I thought you were dead…darlin', fergive me…" he whispered into her hair over and over.

                Amanda stared, perplexed, as she watched this man, who a few minutes ago had been ready to tear something apart, fall to his knees with her friend in his arms and begin to cry. She turned to the regal silver-haired woman, trying to ask a question, but she was staring at the black-haired girl in Wolverine's arms with tears running down her face, and then she whispered, "…alive…she's alive…**_Jean! Scott! Jubilee's alive!_**"

                Logan picked his head out of Jubilee's hair, touching her face gently, seeing the hollows in her cheeks brought on by pain and hunger, fever and tension, and tears stung his eyes again. She was alive! He struggled to his feet, holding her, and carried her out the door to face the other X-Men, tears on his face, and choked out, "She's alive!"

                Then his eyes focused on bruce, really focused on him, and a feral light filled them. "Here, Gumbo, hold her," he said, handing the fragile form to the auburn haired man wearing a long brown duster, and advanced on Bruce as Phoenix lowered him to the floor.

                "Ya stinkin', filthy piece o' crap," he snarled. "Ya knew who she was all along. Ya asked her ta work with ya all that time ago. Hurt yer pride when she refused, didn't it? So when she unexpectedly turned up on yer doorstep, ya didn't even think 'bout tellin' her who she was, didja? Ya jus' figured ya could keep her in the dark, and use her fer yer own purposes. Yer gonna pay fer this, bub!" 

He lifted those sharp, menacing, deadly claws, and Amanda cried out "No!" Despite what he'd put her through, she didn't think he deserved to die. "Don't kill him," she said weakly as he turned those eyes toward her. They were bottomless pools of hatred so deep she flinched from them.

He turned back to Bruce, and snarled as he brought his fist around. Bruce screamed in pain as Blood spurted, and Amanda screamed, covering her eyes involuntarily. When she finally dared to uncover them, she saw Bruce, standing there, freed from the force bubble. Across the bicep of his arm were three deep, bleeding gashes…but no more. He hadn't killed Bruce. Amanda sighed almost audibly in relief, and Phoenix looked at her. "He wouldn't have killed him," she said. "I'm a telepath. I know."

The tall, silver-haired woman turned to Amanda. "I am Storm. You are the one who told Dr McCoy that she was here, aren't you?" she said.

"Yes," Amanda said.

"Thank you," she said. "We have missed her very much. Please accept our thanks. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Amanda looked at the girl she had called Julie, felt her eyes sting with tears as she saw how carefully Wolverine cradled her in his arms. "Is that…Logan?" she asked. Storm nodded. "Then she's in the best hands," Amanda said. "I'd just like to know when she's okay."

"We will call you," Storm said. Amanda followed them outside, watching as they boarded a sleek, black jet and lifted off. Then she got into her car, feeling a great sense of satisfaction.


	7. The Mansion

Chapter 7: The Mansion

                There was a soft moan from the bed, and Logan woke with a snap. Jubilee's eyelids fluttered, opened for a moment, then closed. As he leaned over her, her eyes opened again, and she saw the man leaning over her. With a startled gasp, she threw herself backward on the bed, scrambling back against the wall. "Don't hurt me, please don't hurt me," she whimpered. 

                It tore Logan's heart to pieces hearing her cry like that. He sat down on the end of the bed and reached out to her, wanting to touch her, but she shrank back, avoiding his hand. He dropped his hand with a sigh, blinked back tears. "Jubes, yer home," he said quietly, desperately. "You're home. It's me, Logan, I ain't gonna hurt ya, darlin'."

                "Logan?" Jubilee relaxed a little, her eyes flicking warily around the room at the Shi'ar medical equipment, and at the IV Hank had slipped into her arm to give her the vitamins and fluids she needed. 

                She used to weigh just about a hundred and fifteen pounds. Her week with Sabretooth and her struggle with the river had taken a lot out of her, and Hank had called Amanda back on her cellphone and gotten the particulars from her about 'Julie's' two weeks with her. Logan could see lines on Jubilee's face that hadn't been there before, lines of pain, exhaustion, and uncertainty. More than anything else, he wanted to take her in his arms, hold her, and never let her go again. Unfortunately it looked as if she hadn't recovered her memory. But maybe, now that she was home, Jean and Chuck could do something about that.

                Julie looked at the man in front of her. He did look vaguely familiar. "You're Logan?"

                "Yes," he said gently. "Jubilee, we thought ya were dead. I thought ya were dead…I'm sorry, darlin', if I'd'a known you was alive, I wouldn't'a stopped lookin' till I found ya." He stopped, because she had a puzzled look on her face.

                "What did you call me?" Her forehead wrinkled, the same cute frown he'd loved coming back to her face.

                "Jubilee. That's yer name, Jubilation Lee, but we all shorten it ta Jubilee."

                Her nose wrinkled, and she offered him a small smile. "That's an awfully funny name," she said. "I think I sort of remembered that, but 'Julie' was the only name I could find in the book that was close." She looked him up and down, appraisingly. "Amanda said I kept calling for you when I had nightmares. And every time I looked at the tattoo on my hip, and I saw your name there, I'd get a memory of something like total happiness." She sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at him, then at the space between them, and then frowned. "May I…?" When he nodded, she edged closer to him until they were almost touching. Then, obeying a sudden impulse that she didn't quite understand, she leaned over and kissed him.

                His lips felt warm against hers, and she brought one hand up to touch the rough stubble on his face. That felt familiar. The kiss did too. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensual feel of his mouth on hers, and the kiss lasted until they both realized that breathing wasn't optional. She broke it first, took a deep breath, and smiled nervously.

                Logan didn't want the kiss to end. It had been too damn long since he had held her in his arms; too long since she had smiled at him, laughed with him, cuddled with him. He wanted to touch more of her; he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go again. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

                The door opened, and Logan looked up as Hank walked in. Jubilee saw the white lab coat and shrank back…against Logan this time. He took her hand, patted it reassuringly, and said to her, "Jubilee, this is Hank. He's our doctor, and yer lab partner."

                "Lab partner?" Jubilee stayed tucked against Logan's side as Hank came around the side of the bed and turned off the IV. She didn't flinch when he took the IV from her arm, though she did tense up. Hank said, "If you could turn around, Jubilee, I could take a look at that scalp wound." She held still as he pushed aside her hair and inspected the wound. Thanks to the Shi'ar medical equipment, it was nearly healed; Hank had removed the stitches as soon as he'd seen them. 

"It's healing nicely," Hank said, sitting down in a chair beside the bed. "Now, if I may ask you a few questions…"

"Sure," she said, with an uncertain look in her eyes.

"We found you in a laboratory owned by Garrett Industries in Snow Valley, Massachusetts," he said as gently as possible, because Jubilee's face had turned chalk-white at his words. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She made a soft sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sob. "Bruce Garrett took me up to the labs to show me around. He said he thought I might be a doctor or something, and he wanted to see if maybe something might jog my memory. After we got there he wanted to put me in an MRI tube. I couldn't stand tight places…I hate small closed spaces…and he got some of his security guards to strap me down and put me in there anyway." She closed her eyes and whispered, "Then he took me over to an electroshock machine. He put this…helmet…on and started to stimulate different parts of my brain by channeling electricity into electrodes. It hurt."

Logan's fists grabbed the bedsheet. How dare Bruce Garrett hurt his Jubilee like that! He was going to go back and kill the little greedy bastard…

He caught Hank's warning look, and forced himself to let go of the sheet. Jubilee had started a bit at his anger, and had drawn away from him. With effort, Logan got himself back under control. Hank turned back to her and said, "You could probably do with some reminders. Logan, why not take her upstairs and show her the room you shared. And I'm sure she's hungry. I believe Jean and Ororo were having a late dinner upstairs, and would be glad of your company."

"I…I don't know," Jubilee said nervously, but Logan tugged her to her feet. 

"Come on," he said. "They'd love ta see ya; Jean especially. Come on."

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Jean looked up as Logan and Jubilee came in the kitchen. **Does she remember?** She said to logan telepathically.

                He shook his head. She broke off the link and glanced quickly to Ororo, and then smiled at Jubilee. "Sit down, Jubilee," she said. "Here, help yourself to the leftover roast. You look hungry. I'm Jean, and this is Ororo."

                Jubilee sat down, but didn't stop staring at the two women. "I remember you," she said slowly. "You made me mad once, like really, really mad. I don't remember what about, though."

                "It was soon after you'd come home from your lecture tour," Jean said quietly. "I pissed you off when I told you that you and Logan didn't belong together."

                "I do remember that!" she said, startled. "It was after…after I…Logan and I got in…from…her forehead wrinkled, and she drooped. "Okay, that part I don't remember," she said. "But we'd just gotten back in from…somewhere…and I'd gotten hurt…funny, but I think it was from a fight, but I don't remember with who, or where I'd gone to get in a fight…" she blinked. "But you were fussing about me being somewhere where I shouldn't, and told me it was Logan's fault for dragging out…where?" she sighed in frustration. "I hate not knowing," she said.

                She bit into her sandwich as Ororo got up.  "Wait here," she said, and disappeared. Moments later, she came back with a stack of photo albums, which she deposited in front of Jubilee. "Look through those," she said. "Maybe that will bring something back."

                Jean reached out telepathically to Xavier and Hank as Jubilee started looking through the albums. **Hank, is Jubilee recovered?**

                Hank looked up from the blood tests he was doing to small vials of Jubilee's blood  and thought, _The head wound is still quite nasty. Jean, if you are thinking what I believe you're thinking, I do not believe that would be a wise move right now. Jubilee has not remembered yet because, for some reason or another, she is not ready to remember. You know how the mind works, Jean._

Upstairs, in his study, Xavier had still not gotten over the wonder of having found Jubilee alive. That excitement tinged his mental 'voice' as he spoke to Jean and Hank. **Hank, are you saying it wouldn't be a wise idea to enter her mind right now and try to bring her memories back?**

_Not right now, no. _Hank was quite firm._ By all means, do what you can to restore her memory any other way, but I would not suggest telepathic tampering with her mind. Remember, while we have been grieving, Jubilee has woken up in a strange place, not knowing where or who she was, then taken out of that environment just as she was settling in and rudely used in a laboratory. We still don't know exactly what Sabretooth did to her while she was his captive; he may have hurt her so badly her mind became traumatized and chose amnesia as the only way to shield her from that. Eventually she will remember…and when she does, she is going to need all the love and support we can give her._ Hank pursed his lips. _I can tell you, some of the scars on her body are quite awful. The pain she must have gone through…I cannot imagine how she managed to survive it. Poor Jubilee._ He shook his head.

                Jean looked at the girl sitting at the table beside Ororo, looking through pictures. **Ororo and I are showing her some of the photo albums we have,** she told Hank and Charles. **After we finish I was thinking of bringing her up to see you, Charles.**

                **By all means, bring her up,** Xavier said_. _

                Hank returned to his work, and Xavier returned to his, while keeping a mental 'eye' on the girl downstairs in the kitchen with Jean. Jubilee was leafing through the albums, occasionally picking out things that seemed slightly familiar, but there wasn't a lot. Finally Ororo picked up the albums. "Jean wants you to go upstairs to meet Charles," she said. "He owns this house; he's also our best friend. Oh, Logan," she said, her eyes twinkling, "We all know Jubilee's alive…but Max doesn't."

                "Moose!" Jubilee's eyes lit up. 

Ororo turned to her quickly. "You remember him?"

                "Kind of," Jubilee said. "Tall, big guy…tattoos all over…can't remember where I know him form, or why," she said.

                "Maybe if you saw him it would jog your memory," Ororo said. "Perhaps after you see Charles, you could step out to see him?"

                "Yeah," Logan grinned. "Yeah, we'll go out tonight. Haveta pick up Jubilee's bike from his garage anyway."

                Xavier was waiting for them when Logan and Jubilee stepped into his office. He brought his hoverchair around the desk and folded her into a hug right where she sat in the chair in front of his desk. For a moment he couldn't do anything but hold her, feeling the warmth of the body he held. No matter what happened to her, what she ended up remembering, she was alive, and there was nothing they all couldn't handle together. "Jubilee…" he murmured. "Oh, child, we thought we'd lost you."

                She hugged him back, briefly, gently, then said awkwardly, "I'm sorry, but I don't really remember you…"

                "It's all right," Xavier said gently. "Please, sit down. I won't keep you long; I understand you are going to renew your acquaintance with an old friend."

                "Yeah," Logan grinned. "Gonna take her ta see Moose. All the fuss las' night, I fergot ta tell him she's still alive. He's not gonna believe his eyes when he sees her."

                Charles smiled. "I am glad to see you attempting to resume some of your former habits," he said to Jubilee. "I know they won't feel quite as familiar until you regain your memory, but just trying to do them will help. I am glad to see you home, Jubilee."

                "It's good to be…home," she said after a slight pause. "It does feel like home. I can't explain why…but it does."

                "It is home," Xavier said. "It has been home for you since you were thirteen; it will be home as long as you want it to be."

                Jubilee smiled; the first real, wide, old-Jubilee smile Logan had seen so far from her. "Thank you," she said.

                Charles waved his hand at them. "Go on," he said. "I won't keep you any longer; your friend has felt your loss almost as much as we have." Logan didn't lose any time; he ushered her out of the room.

                She followed Logan out to the garage, and watched as he got on his bike. He put on his jacket, handed her hers, then popped out his helmet and handed her hers. She looked at the three silver slashes on each side of the helmet, and said slowly…"Didn't I give this to you…"

                "Yeah," he said. "When ya came home from yer lecture tour."

                "What lecture tour?" she said.

                He looked at her. "Jubes, yer a real good physicist," he said. "Due partly to yer mutant powers; you can see and manipulate quantum particles."

                "So that's what these little fireworks are," she said, opening her palm and watching the little colored sparks dance on her fingertips.

                "Yep," Logan grinned as she put her helmet on. "Yer doin' real good, Jubes. We should have ya back as good as new in a week."

                "I hope so," she said. "Now how do I sit on this thing…oh…" once again, though her mind might have forgotten how to sit on the bike, her body hadn't. She swung astride the back of Logan's bike as if she hadn't been away for three months, and settled onto the back with that ready-for-trouble gleam in her blue eyes. Logan hugged her tightly, then grinned as she snugged her hands around his waist. She laughed aloud as they drove off.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Moose was closing up shop, preparatory to going out to Rex's, when there was a knock on the door. "I'm closed!" he called.

                "Hey Moose! It's me, yer ol' pal Logan! I got a surprise fer ya!"

                Wondering what Logan was doing here, Moose went and pulled up the garage door. Logan stood out on the step, grinning…but Moose didn't see him. He only saw the dark-haired girl standing shyly next to Logan.

                "Well, I'll be…" He stared for a moment. "Logan…ya gotta be kiddin' me…"

                "Nope," Logan said. "Moose, she's alive!" He could no longer suppress his jubilant shout. She's alive!" 

                Jubilee found herself swept up in a pair of huge, brawny arms and hugged so hard her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. ""My little Lady…I can't believe it…my little Lady…Yer alive! I can't believe yer alive!" He was laughing and crying all at once as he swung her around and around.

                "There's only one problem, Moose," Logan said soberly as Moose put her down, rumpling the top of her hair the way he used to. "She's got amnesia. Till this afternoon, she didn't even know her own name."

                "Ah, well, we'll just haveta reintroduce ya ta all the stuff yer used to, right?" he seized her hand eagerly and dragged her toward the back of the shop. "Close yer eyes," he instructed her, and when she opened them, she saw a gleaming motorcycle under the tarp. 

"My…mine?" she asked. "My bike?"

"Yep," Moose said. "I fixed it up. Didn't think ya'd ever be back fer it, but I'm glad ya are."

Jubilee got on the bike, closed her eyes. She could just remember being on it before; she knew how to ride it, at least. Her hands found the key, turned it.

"All right!" Moose clenched his fist. "We'll have ya right as rain by the end of the night! Hey, Logan, think she's ready fer Rex's?"

"Yeah," Logan said. "Let's see if she can still beat the pants offa you in pool."

Moose guffawed as he swung onto his own bike. Jubilee followed the two men out into the night.

There was total silence at Rex's when the three of them walked in, then all the regulars crowded in at once. "Hey, where ya been?" "Hey, thought ya were gone!" "Hey, think ya can still hit the cue bal like ya used to?" someone shoved a pool stick in her hand and dropped the white cue ball in her other hand, and she grinned. "Yeah, I can still play," she said. "Lemme show you."

She was in the middle of a friendly game with Greg, one of the regulars, when she felt a shove at her back. She turned, to see a big African guy with ratty hair standing behind her. "Yes?" she said.

Mike sneered. The chick looked like she didn't even know him. But he'd know her anywhere, even with her hair cut short. All noise in the bar stopped, and Logan and Moose looked around from, where they were getting another beer at the bar.

"Mike!" Both men's eyes widened. Talk about ghosts; they'd thought Mike was dead! They started to push their way through the crowd.

Mike grabbed Jubilee's arm. "You an' me, we got some unfinished business to take care of," he growled. 

She resisted his pull, trying to wrench her arm out of his grip. "I'm not going anywhere with you…look…I had an accident, I got hit in the head…I don't remember anything…let me go…"

Logan came up in front of the man. "Let her go, bum. Ya got business wit' 'er, ya take it up wit' me." Logan pulled Jubilee's arm from Mike's grip and moved protectively in front of her.

"Get the hell outta my way, runt," Mike snarled. "Ya ain't gonna catch me unprepared again. Ain't no spikes 'round here you can impale me on, see?" He spread his arms wide. "After ya left, one of my gang came back an' got me off. Went ta a hospital, got myself patched up. Been lookin' fer ya two fer a while." He swung a fist at Moose.

Moose roared in anger and pinched back. Mike flew backward, hit the opposite wall of the bar hard. Moose stepped back as Mike barreled into him, and howled as Mike wrapped his hands around Moose's neck. 

Jubilee stood, staring, eyes wide. She didn't know who this was; who was this man Mike?

The two big men rolled over and over on the floor; and Jubilee staggered, sat down hard, as a dam broke in her mind. She barely noticed Logan kneeling beside her; she stared unseeing in front of her as images engulfed her.

She was proudly showing off her new tattoo to Moose when the back wall of the garage had fallen in. Sabretooth had stood framed in the opening, and grabbed her friend. "Sabretooth, no!" she cried desperately as he broke Moose's right arm, and then his left. "Stop it, stop hurting him, I'll do anything!"

"Prove it," Sabretooth snarled. "Put this on." He'd thrown the metal collar at her. She'd hesitated…and Sabretooth had broken Moose's knee. His scream of anguish decided her, and she hurriedly fastened the thing on her neck. She knew what it would do, but she didn't care, as long as Sabretooth left Moose alone. He'd dropped Moose to the floor, ignoring the man's cry of anguish, and dropped down on top of her, ripped her underclothes off. He'd raped her. For the second time in her young life, she'd been brutally used and violated, and she screamed "No, please, stop, you're hurting me…"

"…**NO!!!**" Jubilee's vision cleared, and she saw Moose rolling around on the floor, thrashing under Mike's grip on his neck. Her hands came up, almost automatically, and a huge stream of multicolored sparks poured outward from her hands and struck the other guy. Mike flew through the big hole in the wall and landed in the muddy street outside, looking surprised.

Logan saw Jubilee tense, her eyes glazing, and he moved closer to her. Good thing, because her legs suddenly gave way under her and she sat down hard. He felt her begin to shake, and then her eyes cleared. There was awareness in her eyes again, and a terrible haunted look, just before she blasted Mike through the wall.

"**NOOO!!!"** she screamed, and the sound of it tore Logan's heart. She'd gotten her memory back; that cry was full of anguish and pain. She got up and ran out of the bar, and Logan watched, stunned, as she jumped on her bike and took off.


	8. Memories

 Chapter 8: Memories

                Logan didn't stop to put his bike in the garage. He sprinted into the front door, raced through the front hall, and up the winding staircase to the room he and Jubilee shared. Jean, Ororo, Remy, Charles, Hank, and Scott stood in front of the door, looking worried. The door was firmly closed; and when Logan tried the knob, he found it locked. He knocked. "Jubes, open the door," he said.

                No sound. He growled, gave the knob a savage twist that broke the lock, and pushed open the door.

                Jubilee lay on the bed, still in her coat, the helmet lying forgotten on the nightstand. She was curled up in a miserable ball, sobbing. Jean took the first step into the room, and when no further explosion was forthcoming, she sat down on the end of the bed. "Jubilee," she said, touching the hunched, shaking shoulder.

                "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" Jubilee screamed wildly, flinging herself out of the bed and backing into the far corner of the room. "Stay away from me, don't touch me, oh, God, you don't know what he did to me, I'm dirty, I'm filthy, don't touch me…" Ororo walked in, approached her, and tried to hug Jubilee. The girl backed away from her, tears streaming down her face, and sobbed out, "Oh, God…" and she turned and fled again. Logan caught the back of her jacket as she flew by him, but she simply shrugged out of the jacket and ran off wearing her jeans and T-shirt.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Her bare feet made no sound against the rain-slick grass. She barely noticed the chilly February rain against her skin as she ran across the lawns, away from the mansion. Anywhere. She didn't care where. She just had to get away from all of them, to stop herself from blurting out all her pain and misery and anguish to the people who would be the most hurt by the description at what had been done to her.

                She remembered it all. Finally. Every disgusting detail. Sabretooth breaking into Moose's garage. Telling her if she didn't put the damn collar on he would hurt her friend more. Then when he'd gotten her away, when he'd gotten her to the damn warehouse, the things he'd done to her…

                She cried out as her bare foot caught on a protruding root and she went sprawling. She picked herself up, ignoring the fact that she was now soaked with cold mud and rain. She just kept running, as if she could run away from the memories of pain and anguish. She ignored the burning pain in her lungs as her body fought for air; she ignored her feet, now getting cut by the stones and sticks and thorny brambles that littered the forest, until her body refused to run anymore and her legs collapsed. She curled up in a ball on the muddy ground, sobbing in anguish as the rain worsened and was joined by icy sleet. "Why?!" she screamed at the dark sky. "I was happy! I put Bastion behind me…I stopped having nightmares…Logan wanted to marry me… why did he have to torture me like this?" She sobbed.

                A nasty voice away in the back of her head taunted her. _Because ya wanted it,_ said the voice. _Ya coulda used yer powers ta fry the collar 'fore ya put it on. Ya coulda pretended ta be helpless 'til I got ya away from the garage, away from yer friend. Ya didn't do it. Ya didn't do it 'cause ya like bein' treated like the dirty little girl ya are. Ya shouldn't even be thinking 'bout marryin' da runt. Ya think he wants ta  marry a frail who can't keep her legs closed?_

The voice was familiar. The face that went with that voice dominated her mind, the snarling, feral features of Sabretooth whispering those words into her ears, over and over again as he beat her brutally with the heavy chain, with the thick rope, as he gagged her to muffle her screams as he did vile, painful things to her defenseless body. The pain and the words were the only things keeping her company during those long hours lying bleeding, cramped, and in pain, jammed into the bottom of a wooden packing crate.

                She lay on the cold, soaked ground, shivering for the longest time, until the icy sleet pounding her forced her to move. She pulled her half-frozen limbs under her, got to her feet slowly, and started to walk. She didn't know which direction she was going in. And she didn't care.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Logan was left, staring stupidly at the jacket still in his hands as he heard Jubilee's pounding footsteps on the stairs. They died away quickly, and a second later he heard the back door slam. From their bedroom window he saw her heading away from the mansion, and he knew she was crying.

                He dropped the jacket, was about to go after her when Hank caught his arm. "She'll come back when she's ready," he said. "Logan, there's something you should know. I don't think she knows yet; I don't know how to tell her. Logan, Jubilee is pregnant."

                Logan stared at Hank, speechless with shock. "Uh…how…" it was all he could get out.

                Hank looked grim. "Sabretooth, most likely," he said. "The pregnancy is about three months along. I need to run some more tests, but they may have to wait, given her current state of mind."

                "I should go after her," Logan said, putting aside the question of Jubilee's pregnancy aside for a moment. "It's rainin' out there. She'll catch cold."

                "She'll come back when she's ready," Jean said soothingly to him. "She's not going to stay out there in the cold like you."

                Logan stared at the jacket in his hands, at the sleet that started to pound against the windows outside, and said, "I'm goin' after her."

                He followed her scent through the rain, past the lawn, into the treeline. It almost disappeared altogether in a giant mud puddle, but then his sharp eyes picked up the muddy footprints heading away from the puddle. He followed them until he got a bit further into the forest, and then saw an area of the ground where something heavy had landed. She had tripped over a root, and fallen.

                He tracked the scent in a wide circle around the outer edge of the mansion's property, and finally reached the front drive. The drive was empty, though the smell of gasoline and exhaust told him that she'd gotten on her bike and ridden off somewhere. But to where?

                Logan stood thinking for a moment, then ran into the mansion. He grabbed his jacket and helmet and ran back outside, revving the engine of his motorcycle sitting forgotten in the rain. He sped off down the long drive, only to be pulled up sharply by the sight of Remy in his pickup. "Outta my way, Cajun!" he hollered at him. Gambit shook his head. "Goin' ta help ya look. Where ya headed?"

                "Moose's." Remy backed the pickup out of the way, then fell in behind Logan when they hit the highway.

                Twenty minutes later, they were at Moose's. Logan got off the bike as Moose pulled open his garage door. He was sitting on his bike, pulling on his helmet "Ya seen Jubes?"

                "Toward the docks!" Moose called. "She just went ridin' by; she didn't stop. She looked awfully upset, though; she was cryin'." Logan revved his engine and sped off, Remy and Moose following. 

                They cruised up and down the dock space for a while, Logan sniffing with all his might. It wasn't till the wind shifted that he got a faint, a very faint, whiff of mud and crushed wet leaves in the middle of the other smells of the city. He followed that wisp of scent to a warehouse he'd passed a few times already, and noticed the door was a bit ajar. He slipped in, followed by Remy and Moose. 

                A single bare bulb swung from the ceiling, illuminating the black-and silver motorcycle lying silently on its side on the floor. Logan's attention was drawn, however, to the heavy chain hanging from a low beam. A hook hung at the end of that chain, and two empty handcuffs swung at the end of the hook. The floor beneath the hook was splattered and stained with suspicious rust-colored spots, and Logan needed only a faint whiff to let him know what the spots were. Months old they might be, but the smell was unmistakable. Blood. Jubilee's blood.

                He saw the heavy rope lying on top of the wooden crate, and saw the stained wood inside before he saw the tiny hunched-over figure beside it. Jubilee looked up at him, gave a soft moan, and then started to talk wildly. "It was here, I was here, he had me here all that time, he stuffed me inside this crate when you went by during the day so you wouldn't find me. It was all my fault…what happened to me was all my fault, it happened to me because I wanted it…"

                Logan narrowed his eyes. "Jubilee, it wasn't yer fault. None of it was. What're ya talkin' about?" He stepped closer to her as he spoke, and as he reached out and finally touched her, he felt the burning heat of her skin, even though she was shivering. Fever. He had to get her warm and dry, fast. She rambled on, incoherently, as he gently pulled her up in his arms. "Remy, " he rasped, his voice not quite steady, "Open the truck door. Moose, I'll give ya a call when we get home an' we fin' out if she's okay. Can ya take care o' her bike fer us?"

                The drive back to the mansion nearly broke all the speed laws in the state, but Logan didn't care. His only thought was for the woman he loved lying back there in the passenger seat of Remy's truck. He pulled right up to the mansion's front door and ran up to the truck behind him, lifting Jubilee's now-still body out of the truck. He ran into the mansion, leaving Remy, his motorcycle, and the truck out in the rain. Remy sighed as he closed the truck's door and started to pull the bike into the shed. "P'tite, I hope you 'preciate what de _homme_ goin' t'rough for you," he said grimly to himself.

                Hank looked up as Jean and Logan burst through the door. Logan gently laid Jubilee on the table, and Jean began to struggle with the mud-stained and rain-soaked denim and cotton of her T-shirt. Finally she gave up, found a pair of scissors, and cut the wet, sodden clothing off the shivering girl.

                Logan swallowed hard. Jubilee had pale pink scars from Sabretooth's claws going up her legs, scars that climbed up her calves and body to her shoulders. They were nothing next to the pink scars that lined her back, ribs, and chest. And worst of all was the new pink skin growing on the inner surface of her thighs. There was far too much of it in that area. "He said he ruined her for me," he whispered, as Jean and Hank looked up in surprise. "On the bridge. Creed said he ruined her for me."

                "She is not ruined," Jean said tersely to him. "Logan, please get out of here--"

                "No, let him stay," Hank said. "Perhaps she will overcome her aversion to his presence if she senses him near her, and realizes he is not going anywhere." Hank slipped the needle under her arm, and had Jean hold it there as he took another vial of blood from Jubilee's arm. Logan frowned as he saw how slowly it filled. 

                "Her blood pressure's pretty low," Jean said. She'd noticed the slow filling too.

                Hank nodded. "I want you to hook her up to the blood pressure monitor," he said. "If it drops too low, her life, and that of the child's, could be in danger." He hooked an IV to the needle and started the clear fluids running into her arm.

*                                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Logan snapped out of the light doze he'd fallen in, his eyes instantly riveted on the girl in the bed. Jubilee twisted in the sheets, her forehead covered with a sheen of sweat and her face twisted in pain. Every muscle in her body stood out in sharp, agonizing relief, and she cursed through her clenched teeth. Logan reached out a hand to touch her, and jumped when she suddenly screamed. "Creed…." Her voice was somewhere between a whimper and a curse, and Logan flinched as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Stop it….I won't…no… Damn it, Sabretooth, no…stop…" her tone changed from anger to pleading. "No, please…no, Creed, please don't, please…" The pleas became more and more frantic as she writhed, and then suddenly she screamed again. Logan flung himself frantically over to the other side of the bed, catching her before she could hit the cold floor, and sat down on the bed, cradling her in his arms as she curled up and cried. When she finally stopped, when the nightmare ended, he laid her back on the bed and lay beside her, holding her tight.

                "Jubes," he whispered into the darkness, "I don't know what Creed did ta ya. I don't think I really wanna know.  But he hurt ya, bad, an' I know ya blame yerself fer it. I don't know why. I don't know what ta do ta make ya feel better; all I can do is be here fer ya till ya come out of it." She moaned and shifted position, curling up in his arms and burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, sighing as he felt sleep steal over him. "I love ya, Jubes," he said before sleep claimed him.

                He woke, startled, instinctively grabbing for the girl who was supposed to be in his arms. The bed beside him was empty. His eyes flew open; just in time to catch Jubilee in the act of slipping her leg into her jeans. 

                "Going somewhere?" 

                She froze, and turned slowly toward him with a guilty look. He sat up, pinning her down with his gaze, and repeated, "Going somewhere?"

                Her blue eyes dropped to the floor, and she stood there twisting her fingers awkwardly in the hem of her T-shirt. "I can't stay here, Logan," she whispered. "I couldn't bear staying here and seeing hate in your eyes every time you look at me. I don't want to be a constant reminder to you of what I let Creed do to me. I have to go…I can't--"

                Logan grabbed her shoulders firmly. "Jubilee, listen. _Ya didn't let him 'do' anything_. What Creed did was his own fault. None o' it was yers. Don't blame yerself fer somethin' that wasn't yer fault. And what makes ya think I'd hate ya, anyway? Jubes, I love ya. If ya got yer memory back, then ya remember that I asked ya ta marry me. I wouldn't have done that if I didn't really mean it. And you said yes, an' I ain't lettin' ya back out o' yer promise."

                "You have to," Jubilee said, twisting out of his grip. "You have to. I can't ask you to marry me now. I can't marry you now. Please, Logan," She looked at him, directly at him, for the first time during their conversation, and he saw the expression on her face. It was fear. It stunned him.

                "Jubes, what are you afraid of?" he said gently.

                Jubilee heard the soft note in his voice, and the truth slipped past her lips before she could stop it. "I'm pregnant, Logan," she whispered. 

                He stared at her, and she rushed on, as if desperate to get the truth out before her nerve gave out. "I suspected it back at Amanda's place. I bought a pregnancy test to make sure…it came up positive," she said sadly. "And it's got to be…his…" her face crumpled, and she had to choke out the next words around her sobs. "He was your worst enemy," she whispered. "You won't want to raise his child. But I can't…I can't…"

                "Terminate the pregnancy," Logan finished for her. "I wouldn't ask you to, Jubilee. And that child is half you. It doesn't matter to me where the other half of its genes came from."

                "You say that now," she sniffled. "You might change your mind later. I couldn't bear that, Logan. Please."

                "I won't change my mind, Jubes," he said, hugging her tightly. "Because changing my mind would mean losing ya. I lost enough people in my life already, Jubes. I ain't losin' ya, too." He sighed. "As long as yer tellin' me the truth, I guess I oughtta tell ya somethin', too. I a'ready knew ya was pregnant. Hank foun' out when ya first got here; we all jus' been waitin' fer the right time ta tell ya. We didn' know ya already knew. And, Jubes, knowin' ya was didn't make no difference ta me, or ta anyone else. We still love ya. Now come lie down, 'fore Hank finds out yer outta bed an' gets mad at me fer it."

                Jubilee sobbed softly as she got back into bed with him. He hugged her tightly as she cried. Not the angry, furious crying she'd been doing before, but a soft, anguished weeping as she slowly began to accept and move past what had happened. He held her, and let her cry, knowing that she needed to do that to heal.


	9. MIscarriage

Chapter 9: Miscarriage

                Jubilee was sitting at the kitchen table with a distressed look on her face and the phone book open on the table when Jean walked into the kitchen. "What's wrong?" she asked.

                Jubilee sighed. "My doctor moved," she said. "I have to find another one."

                Jean leaned across the table. "Why don't you come to see the doctor 'Ro and I see?" she offered. "She does obstetrics, and she takes both human and mutant patients. I'm sure she'll be glad to see you."

                "Do you think she can see me today?" Something in Jubilee's voice made Jean pause. 

                "Is it an emergency?"

                "Yeah," Jubilee lowered her voice. "Uh, I'm…" she whispered into Jean's ear.

                Jean grabbed the phone. "I'll call her for an appointment today," she said quickly. "Go lie down. Stay off your feet." She dialed the number, waited, then said, "Yes, I need to speak to Doctor Freeman, please." A pause. "Doctor Freeman, it's Jean Summers. Listen, I have a friend here who…" 

Jubilee lost the rest of the conversation as she lay down in bed and rubbed her stomach. Despite being almost four months along, her stomach had remained flat. She had started to wonder when she was going to start 'showing'.

After her relapse of pneumonia a week ago, she'd stayed in bed for a few days, per Hank's order. She'd even taken all the pills and vitamins he told her to take, even though she hated them. She still didn't know how she felt about the pregnancy, though; she wasn't thrilled. In fact, she felt a feeling of dread when she thought about the baby; but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She had considered termination; but she couldn't do it. Logan had made it clear to her that she wasn't getting rid of him; he wasn't going anywhere. 

Then that morning she'd woken to feel a painful tightening in her stomach. It felt like a cramp…but she was pregnant. Alarmed, she'd gotten out of bed and gone to the phone, called her doctor, and found out that someone else had taken over his practice and her regular doctor had moved. The secretary offered to set up an appointment for her with the new doctor, but upon being told that Jubilee was a mutant, she had become very frosty and told Jubilee, icily, that Dr. Ruben didn't take mutant patients. Jubilee had hung up with mixed feelings. It had never mattered to Dr. Jenner that she was a mutant; she hadn't even thought about this when she'd found doctors before. She'd been gritting her teeth against the cramps and looking for another doctor in the phone book when Jean came in.

                She was gritting her teeth against another wave of pain when Jean came in, Logan following behind her. Since Jubilee hadn't even told him she was feeling anything, he was alarmed when he saw her white, strained face. He insisted on carrying her out to the car, and also insisted that Jubilee lie down across the back seat while Jean drove to the hospital. "Dr. Freeman will meet us there," Jean said anxiously as she drove into the parking lot. "She's a little worried about the cramps, and she wants to take a look. She told me to bring you right into the emergency room."

                It seemed to take forever in the Emergency room. Jubilee was told to wait, but the pain in her middle was getting so bad she was almost crying when Dr. Freeman came in. She took one look at Jubilee, at the strained, tense look on Logan's and Jean's faces, and waved them into the emergency room. Jean was helping Jubilee get undressed when a wave of pain hit the younger woman so hard she screamed. Logan jumped, and the doctor looked grim. "Radiology," she snapped to a passing nurse, and the last thing Jubilee saw as they pushed her out of the emergency room was Jean and Logan, looking terrified.

                Jubilee hardly felt the prick of the IV needle going into her arm as another intense cramp struck her stomach. "What's happening to me?" she gasped.

                "It's all right, dear. It's going to be all right." Dr. Freeman moved the sonogram probe over the girl's flat stomach. Mrs. Summers had told her that her friend was almost four months pregnant, and she'd had her suspicions when she saw how flat the girl's stomach was in the emergency room. Those suspicions were confirmed when she saw the images on the sonogram monitor. She leaned over the bed and spoke to the frightened girl on the bed. "Easy, Miss Lee. Don't fight it. Let it happen."

                "What's happening?" Jubilee groaned when the pain passed.

                "The placenta didn't implant firmly in the uterine wall," she said, wishing there was an easier way to say this. "The fetus couldn't get enough nourishment, and it stopped developing. Your body's trying to rid itself of the debris inside you. It's going to feel like you're giving birth. Just relax. We'll tell the child's father out there what's going on, and we'll get him to come in with you. We're taking you up to Labor and Delivery right now. You can at least be comfortable."

                In the few pain-free moments between contractions (because Jubilee realized that was what they were) Jubilee had to admit that she felt a certain amount of relief. She didn't want the child. Maybe it was better this way. The nurse injected something into her IV tube, and she looked at the woman questioningly. "It's just something to help you with the pain," she said, ""it'll numb your body from the waist down so you won't feel much pain." Sure enough, in a short time the pain receded, and Jubilee fell limply back onto the pillow.

                Dr, Freeman hurried out into the Emergency Room's waiting area, where Mrs. Summers and the man waited. They stood at her approach, and said anxiously, "What's the news?"

                "She's having a miscarriage," Freeman said. "I'm sorry. She apparently hasn't been taking care of herself, and the massive trauma to her internal organs didn't make it any easier. The fetus stopped developing about a week ago, and her body's starting to flush it out." She hesitated. "She's not in any condition to respond to questions right now; I ordered an anesthetic be given. She'll hardly feel anything. But I need to know what happened." She led the way down the hall and out to the public elevators as Mrs. Summers began to talk.

                By the time they got out onto the Labor and Delivery floor, Dr. Freeman was shaking her head. "That explains the trauma and the scarring to her internal organs, the low blood pressure, and the weight problem then," she said. "So she didn't really want to be pregnant; she'll recover emotionally faster from this then." They reached the door of Jubilee's room, and Logan went straight in. Jean stopped Dr. Freeman from entering. "Wait," she said uneasily. "The internal scarring…how bad is it?" Dr. Freeman hesitated.

 "Please, Doctor, I've known Jubilee since she was thirteen. She shares everything with me. There's very little about her I don't know. Is she going to be all right?"

                Janet Freeman made a quick decision. 'She's going to be fine," she said. "She needs to get her weight back up; being ninety pounds with her age and height isn't a good thing. The scarring is bad, but it isn't bad enough to prevent her from having any children in the future, if she's careful." She watched as Jean sighed in relief.

                Logan came out. "She's okay," he said to Jean in obvious relief. "Kinda groggy from the medication, but she's okay."

                The nurse came out, almost ran into Janet in the hallway, and looked relieved. "Doctor, I think it's happening," she said. 

Dr. Freeman said kindly, "Why don't you go and wait in the lounge down the hall. I'll call you when you can see her." And she disappeared into Jubilee's room.

                Jubilee felt as if she were floating in a thick fog. She was drowsy. Whatever they'd given her, it was pretty powerful stuff; she hadn't even felt the contractions that had opened her body. She lay back and closed her eyes as Dr. Freeman pulled her down to the end of the bed and positioned a container under her hips. Another shot into her IV tube, and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep as her body went about doing what it had to do.

*                                                                              *                                                                              *

                When Jubilee woke the first thing she saw was Logan and Jean, sitting on chairs next to her bed. Logan was the first to see she was awake, and leaned over her. "How ya doin', Jubes?"

                "Feel better," she said. "No pain."

                "That's good. The doctor said ya weren't goin' to suffer so much 'cause it was still early. Did it hurt?"

                "In the beginning," she said, "Not so much at the end. Logan, I'm kind of glad I had a miscarriage. I didn't really want Sabretooth's child. I hope you're not upset."

                "No, Jubes," he said, hugging her tightly. "Truth be known, I'm kinda glad too. If yer okay with it, then I'm okay. As long as ya get better." Jubilee hugged him close.

                There was a knock on the door, and a woman came in. "Jubilee?" she said.

                Jubilee's eyes widened. "Amanda!" she held out a hand to the other woman as Jean and Logan stood up to greet her too. Amanda shook hands with them cordially, then seized Jubilee's shoulders and hugged her happily. "It's so good to see you," Jubilee finally let her go and inspected her from top to bottom. "I never got a chance to thank you," she said.

                "For what?" Amanda looked surprised.

                "For saving my life," she said. "If you hadn't brought me in when you saw me outside, I might have died."

                "Oh, don't mention it," Amanda blushed. 'You actually did me a favor. You saved me from getting married to Bruce."

                "You guys broke up?" Jubilee said. 

"You don't sound too surprised," Amanda commented.

"You remind me of me, sometimes, Amanda," Jubilee said. "I didn't think it was going to work out. At least you found out what he was like before you married him. Imagine how horrible he would have been if you'd actually married him first." Jubilee looked her over. "You don't seem to be doing too badly. What have you been doing?"

"I left Bruce," Amanda said. "The night your friends came to pick you up I left him. Packed my bags and walked out. Julie—Jubilee—I accidentally took one of Bruce's suitcases with me to Massachusetts. When I opened it I found an envelope in there addressed to him. It was from some girl named Candie out in Las Vegas. Bruce had paid her two thousand dollars to spend the week with him in Vegas. She gave him the money back with the understanding that he would leave me for her. It pissed me off, frankly. I was all for leaving him right then and there, but I couldn't leave you there. I knew what he was likely to do. So at the conference I asked the former Avenger Henry McCoy to contact the Avengers. I felt sure that they would come help you. I didn't expect that the X-Men would come, though."

"Why were you with him in the first place?" Jubilee said. "Forgive me…but I haven't like him since I first met him, and that was when I gave the speech at his graduation from Columbia University. Why would you start going out with him?"

Amanda sighed. "I ask myself that all the time," she said. "The reasons I started out with don't seem to make any sense now.

"I was married before, Jubilee. Dave was everything I ever wanted. I really loved him. But he couldn't stand being apart from me for those conferences and all the long hours I spent in the labs. We divorced about three years after we got married." She sighed. "Then the labs I was working at closed, but I was working on some research at the time on gene-mapping. I met Bruce at a convention one day, and we started talking. He can be charming when he wants to be; he just doesn't feel the need to be nice unless it gets him something he wants. It wasn't until I published my first paper from his labs, and he insisted on putting his name on the paper too that I realized what he was doing. Foolish me, I thought I could change him. I stayed with him. I think he decided to propose to me when someone told him he had to be very intelligent to hold down a degree in Biogenetics and Physics at the same time. But he told me he really loved me; and I believed him.

"After I accepted his proposal he changed completely. He was away all the time. I had no idea he was lying to me about where he was until I saw the note from Candie; but that was it. I took the two thousand she was giving back to him, threw her note away, and used the money to get myself an apartment here in the city. I tried to apply at a few of the colleges and universities for a position as a teacher or part of a research staff, but no one's called me back so far. I even applied at Columbia. Nothing." She shook her head disappointedly. "So I got a job as a doctor here. I was coming in for my shift when I saw your name on the patient list. I figured I'd stop in and say hi. I'm glad you have your memory back," she said. 

"So am I." Jubilee was quiet for a moment, then said, "The pregnancy test—"

"I left it in the bathroom for you," Amanda said. "I figured you might want to know. And I know it came up positive; I'm sorry it ended this way," she said regretfully.

"The child wasn't Logan's," Jubilee said. "I didn't really want it, but I didn't see a choice. I'm okay with it, though."

Amanda leaned over her, hugged her again. "I think Dr. Freeman wants to keep you here a couple more days, just to make sure you're okay," she said. "I'll stop in later at the end of my shift before I go home." She exited the room as Dr, Freeman came in.

"Friend of yours?" she asked Jubilee.

"Yes," Jubilee said.

"She's a nice woman," Dr. Freeman said as she went on to check Jubilee's charts. "We almost didn't hire her. Another research scientist, Bruce Garrett, called us and told us not to hire her because he thought she had 'questionable ethics.' But we were really shorthanded, and we hired her out of desperation. But she's been really great so far; the patients love her."

"Bruce Garrett is her former fiancé," Jubilee told Dr. Freeman quietly. "He was cheating on her; that's why she left him. That's why he's mad at her now, that's why  he tried to get you to not hire her."

"Ewww. I hate guys like that," Dr. Freeman finished examining Jubilee, made a note on her charts, and said, "I'm going to release you this afternoon. You're perfectly fine. But I want you to take a full-spectrum vitamin supplement for the next three weeks, and I want you to eat well and get plenty of sleep. You're all run-down. No strenuous activity." She handed the papers with Jubilee's instructions on them, said, "Sign here," and when Jubilee did she produced a bag from under the bed with her clothes and things in it.

*                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Jubilee went straight for the phone when she got home, and dialed the phone number for Columbia University. "Professor Cohen, please," she said.

                A familiar voice came over the line. "This is Matthew Cohen."

                "Matthew, long time no hear," Jubilee grinned into the phone. "This is Jubilation Lee."

                "Jubilee?" Professor Cohen sounded shocked. "I thought your friends said you'd died!"

                "I fell off the bridge," Jubilee said. "I hit my head, and lost my memory. A friend picked me up, brought me back 'to life', so to speak. I came home, regained my memory. I'm fine now." She took a deep breath. "As a matter of fact, that friend was the reason why I'm calling. Her name is Amanda Greene. She put in an application for a teaching job or a research assistant at Columbia; Have you heard about it?"

                "Amanda Greene," Matthew said thoughtfully. "Yes. Her resume checked out, her former employers gave glowing recommendations…but we got a phone call from one of our former alumni, Bruce Garrett…remember him? And he said she had questionable work ethics and said she was difficult to work with. We were all asked to vote on hiring or not hiring her. I voted yes, but others weren't so open-minded. They decided not to."

                Jubilee sighed. "Oh, well," she said.

                "But," Cohen said, causing her ears to perk up, "if you have another opinion, if you'd write a letter and mail it here, I'm sure Dan Miller would take a recommendation from such a well-respected person under due consideration."

                Jubilee almost bounced on the bed, but a sharp twinge from her still-sore body sharply reminded her of Dr. Freeman's injunction to stay quiet. Instead, she said, "Thank you, Matthew."

                She spent the rest of the day composing her letter, and put it asde on her desk, promising herself she'd drop it in the mail as soon as she could. She curled up beside Logan that night happy. For the first time in a long while, she felt as thought her life was finally getting back to normal. "Logan?" she whispered to him.

                "Yeah, darlin'?" he said.

                "Do you remember the engagement ring we picked out right before…everything…happened?"

                "Yes." He tensed.

                "Do you still have it?"

                He hauled his dog tags out from under his T-shirt where he usually wore it, and she saw the little circle of gold around the chain. "I kept it with me, darlin'. I never took it off."

                Her voice was soft as she said, "Could I have it?"

                Logan's throat sounded like something was caught in it. He carefully removed the ring from the chain, and held it up to her. She slipped it on her finger, looked at it glowing in the dim light from the stars outside the window, sighed happily, and snuggled against him. In moments she was asleep.


	10. Payback

Chapter 10: Payback

                Amanda sighed as she flipped through her mail. More bills, some junk. Nothing from any of the universities she'd applied to. 

                She dropped the mail, unread, onto her hall table as little toenails clicked on the linoleum of her apartment. Buster rounded the corner from the kitchen and pelted frantically down the hall, barking happily. Amanda once again thanked her lucky stars that she'd been able to find an apartment so close to the hospital that she could afford. "Gotta go out, Buster?" she cooed, ruffling his fur. "Come on." She clipped the leash to his collar and opened her door. 

                Jubilee stood there, holding a large brown envelope. Amanda gaped for a minute, and then threw her arms around her friend. "You were gone when I got off shift, and because you weren't a patient of mine I couldn't get your address. Wow, you look a lot better!"

                "I feel a lot better, too," Jubilee said. "I got something for you, for helping me out. Can I come in?"

                "Sure!" Amanda said. "Buster, you have to wait."

                "Oh, if you were about to take him for a walk, then I'll join you." Jubilee turned and led the way back out into the hall, Amanda and Buster following close behind. Jubilee didn't say a word until they were outside, and Buster was sniffing around the bushes. Then she took the envelope from under her arm and handed it to Amanda. "Here. This is for you."

                Puzzled, Amanda opened it. She stared at the letter stapled on top of the bundle of papers for a moment. 

                "Read it!" Jubilee urged her.

                Amanda read aloud, "Dear Ms. Greene: We are happy to inform you that your application for a position  at Columbia University has been accepted…" Her voice trailed off, and her eyes widened. "They accepted my application? I can start there? Oh, wow…." She looked up at Jubilee, tears in her eyes. "This was the best news I could have gotten…Oh, my…" and to her embarrassment she started to cry.

                Jubilee grinned and hugged her. "Matthew wanted to mail it, but I told him I'd bring it. I wanted your address anyway. Thank you so much for helping me, Amanda. Dr. McCoy told me how you approached him about Bruce and me, and he decided that the X-Men were better prepared to handle this than the Avengers were. Lucky me, or Logan wouldn't have known I was still alive."

                The two women turned to reenter the building. Neither one of them saw the black Mercedes pull into the parking lot, and they had no idea that the driver was watching them go in.

                Amanda closed the door and unhooked the leash from Buster's collar. She tossed it absently over the back of a nearby chair and sat down, still staring in disbelief at the paper. "I don't believe it. I still don't believe it. How did you find out—how did you know--"

                Jubilee laughed and sat down on a couch. "Professor Matthew Cohen is a very close friend of mine," she said cheerfully. "When you told me that you'd put an application in with Columbia University, I gave him a call. He said that Bruce had called the University and recommended against their hiring you; that's why they didn't consider you. I wrote a letter; and they decided to give you a chance after all."

                "Bruce," Amanda sighed. " Aw, jeez, I hate him. I broke off my engagement with him, Jubilee, after I saw what he did to you. I don't know why I stayed with him for so long; having access to his labs wasn't worth what I put up with in him. I'm glad you came along, Jubilee; if you hadn't I'd be married by now to someone I'd end up hating in the long run."

                Jubilee hugged her. "I'm glad I could help," she said. "And oh, by the way--" She pulled a long plain white envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Amanda. "For saving my life; and for helping me." Amanda opened the envelope and pulled out its contents. For a moment she stared, speechless. "Jubilee…" 

                "It's the least I can do, seeing as how you saved my life, fed me, took care of me, and then bought those clothes for me. Please," Jubilee leaned toward the other woman earnestly, "Please, Amanda, take it. I'll feel bad if you don't, especially seeing that you need it now."

                Amanda stared at the money in her hands, stunned at her friend's generosity, then put the money back in the envelope. "Jubilee, I--"

                The doorbell  rang.

                Amanda got up and opened the door. The next moment she was sprawled backward on the floor and the door was banging against the wall, and a scowling man was standing in the doorway. Bruce Garrett.

                "So this is where you've been hiding," he snarled. "Had enough yet? Ready to come back?"

                "Never," Amanda stood up. "Get out of here, Bruce." She stood and went to her purse, slipping  the envelope into it. Bruce crossed the room in two swift steps, grabbed her arm in a grip that must have bruised, and yanked the envelope out of her hand. He ripped it apart, and bills scattered all over the floor. He grabbed her other arm. 

                "Where'd you get this? Huh? You steal it from me, or you steal it from someone else? Should I call the cops and tell them you robbed somebody?" 

                "She got it from me," Jubilee snapped, standing up from the corner couch where she'd been sitting. "I gave it to her. You, of all people, talking about stealing? You're a real piece of work, Bruce." She took Amanda's arms out of his grasp, and bent to pick up the scattered money.

                Bruce struck out at Amanda. His palm connected with her cheek, and sent her stumbling back. Jubilee caught her, lowered her into a chair, then took two quick steps to Bruce and slapped him back.

                He stared at her, stunned. 

                She faced him, hands on her hips. "I swear to God, Bruce," she snapped at him, "I remember what you did to me. I don't like watching my friends get hurt. And I don't like you. Don't piss me off, or you're going to be really sorry."

                Bruce apparently had all the brains God gave a cabbage, because as Jubilee turned her back he lashed out with a foot and hooked her ankle. Jubilee reacted with the reflexes honed by years of fighting and dropped to the floor, sweeping her other ankle out and knocking his legs out from under him. He hit the floor with a _whump_ that knocked the wind out of him. When the stars finally cleared out of his vision, he found himself still out of breath because Jubilee's foot was on his neck.

                She leaned in. "Didn't I tell you not to piss me off?"

                "I'm…sorry…" he choked out around the foot that was crushing his windpipe. 

Jubilee shifted her weight onto her other foot. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that?"

"I…said…I'm…sorry…" To Jubilee's utter disgust, Bruce started to sniffle. "I'm sorry…please don't kill me…"

"What makes you think I'm going to kill you?"

"Not…you…_him_…" Jubilee turned and saw Logan, leaning casually against the doorframe, casually popping one claw in and out, inspecting it. The _snikt_ sounded loud in the small apartment.

"Oh, hey, Logan," Jubilee sounded nonchalant. "Just getting ready to take care of some garbage. You want to help?"

"Mmm… Looks like ya got things 'bout wrapped up, darlin'," he drawled lazily. "All he needs is a bow wrapped 'round him. Ya want a regular ribbon bow, or one made outta his skin?"

"Skin bows are so messy," Jubilee said, exerting just a bit more pressure with her foot on his windpipe. "Take him outside and do it. Don't want to mess up Amanda's floor." She turned around forty degrees the other way and winked at Amanda. Amanda, who had been tensing visibly, relaxed as she saw the wink. Not that she thought her friend was actually going to kill her ex-fiance, but she wasn't as sure about the guy standing in the door.

Logan bent over and grabbed the back of Bruce's jacket, hauling the man to his feet. Bruce panicked. "Amanda, don't let him kill me, Amanda, call the police, please, I loved you, I really did, please, sweetheart…" And he started to cry. 

Jubilee lost it. She couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "Logan, just toss him out, okay? He's not worth the time it'll take to skin him." She dissolved into laughter, falling into Amanda's kitchen chair and holding her sides as she cracked up.

Bruce was too busy crying to notice as Logan shoved him out of Amanda's apartment, closed her door, and prodded him at the point of his claws down the steps and out to his car. When Bruce started to turn, Logan stopped him with a claw placed delicately on the vein in his throat. "Don't even think about it, bub," he said. "Git in that fancy car an' keep goin', cause if I see you anywhere near Jubes or her friend again, you an' I are goin' to have a problem."

"N-n-no p-p-p-problems, okay? No problems. We're not going to have any problems. I won't look at her again, okay?" The claw increased its pressure, breaking the skin ever so slightly, and a drop of blood rolled down Bruce's neck. His voice climbed another octave. "Either of them! I swear! Either of them! I promise!" 

"Keep it." Logan retracted his claw, stared Bruce Garrett in the eye for a few more seconds, then stepped back. Bruce got into his car, jammed his keys in the ignition, and peeled out of the parking lot so fast he lost a rim on the curb coming out. Logan chuckled as he watched him go.

Jubilee came up to him, seconds later, and hugged him as she laughed. "Well, Bruce won't be bothering Amanda anytime soon. And I bet he checks the attendee list at the next convention I go to and doesn't even show his face."

Logan grabbed her in his arms, hugged her back. "Been a long time since I heard ya laugh," he said. "Missed the sound." He led the way over to the pickup.

"Well get used to it, 'cause you're going to be hearing it for, oh, the next sixty years or so? Maybe longer." Jubilee laughed. "Come on. Jean wants to go shopping for dresses today."

Logan growled. "Still don't know why I can't come," he grumbled. 

Jubilee punched him in the arm playfully. "It's bad luck to see the bride's dress before the ceremony, Logan," she told him. "Besides, you'd get bored with all the girl talk. You hate shopping, anyway." She kissed him. "Jean's my matron of honor. Ororo, Rogue, and Betsy are my bridesmaids. Who did you pick?"

"Remy for best man, o' course. Hank and Warren for groomsmen…and Scott . Just so Jean'd have someone ta walk with."

"Thank you," Jubilee kissed him again.

*                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Jean shook her head. "I don't think that's you, Jubilee," she mused.

                Jubilee twirled in front of the full length mirror. "You don't think so? I kinda like it."

                She was wearing a white sequined sating sheath dress that started at her throat and went all the way down to her ankles. There was a short train trailing out behind her.

                "Well…" Rogue hesitated. "Sugah, Ah doan lahk ta be the bearer o' bad news, but the dress kinda makes ya look a li'l…well…chubby."

                Jubilee whirled, looked at herself in the mirror. There was a lot of beading and sequins around the dress, and as she looked closer, she saw Rogue was right. Her tiny waist did look a little…wider.

                "I see your point," she said. "Okay. Let's put this one back and let me try on the other one."

                She came out again, this time in a plainer, less ornamented mermaid-style dress that slimmed down her waist nicely. There was a froth of fabric at the bottom of the dress; it rustled softly as she moved. She turned slowly in front of the mirror.

                There was a tinkle of bells at the door of the dress shop, and the three women turned. Ororo and Betsy came in, spotted Jubilee in front of the mirror, and headed for the changing area. Betsy looked at the dress. "Oooh…I don't like that," she said.

                "What's wrong with it?" Jubilee said defensively.

                Betsy stared at the dress. "It makes you look skinny," she said. "There's all that bunchy fabric around the end of the gown, and there's you rising up out if it. The fabric makes you look sort of…skinny."

                Jubilee sighed. "I think I've tried on like a zillion dresses, and all of them either make me look skinny, or fat, of chubby, or short…Maybe I'll just put a bag on and go through the ceremony that way!"

                Ororo waited until Jubilee stopped ranting, then said, "Jubilee, I know you didn't want a long full dress, but perhaps you would change your mind if you tried one on."

                "I'll try it," Jubilee said doubtfully. "Let me go take this off, and I'll see what they have."

                She wandered up and down the racks, looking at the dresses. She didn't really want something with a full skirt, but everything else she'd tried on so far hadn't looked right. At this point she was willing to try anything.

                Ororo held up a dress. "Jubilee, look at this one," she said. Jubilee looked it over critically. It was white satin, with a long skirt. Not a full one, though; the material draped downward in long, elegant vertical folds, to trail behind the wearer. "I'll try it," she said.

                She slipped into it in the dressing room, her fingers fumbling with the tiny zipper, and walked out. When she saw Jean's face, she knew this was the right dress. "Jubilee!" Jean exclaimed. 'Wow, the dress is…it makes you look taller, somehow," she stopped, unable to say anything else. 

                Rogue and Betsy both nodded. "Much better, Jubilee."

                Ororo looked at the dress as Jubilee twirled in it. "It is beautiful," she said. "The draped skirt gives the illusion that you are taller and slimmer. It will need to be hemmed up, of course, but it is perfect."

                Jubilee looked up. "I do like it," she said. "I didn't want one with a skirt like that, but it looks right, somehow." She sighed. "Okay. My dress is chosen,  now what color should the bridesmaid dresses be?"

                "Not yellow!" Ororo, Rogue, and Betsy chorused, looking at Jean. Jean bristled.

                "I thought you guys liked the dresses!" she huffed. "You didn't say anything about it at my wedding."

                "We did not wish to offend you," Ororo said, "But the dresses were not in the best taste."

                Jubilee snickered at the embarrassed flush on Jean's face. "Okay, okay, I won't torture anyone with yellow dresses," she grinned. "Since the wedding will be in June, maybe a light pastel color will work?"

                "I don't like pastels," Betsy said.

                Jubilee sighed. "Well, let's take a look at what they have before we decide, okay?" she said.

                She looked at the racks. There was a pretty peach color that would look good against Jean and Rogue's fair skins…but it wouldn't be as nice on Ororo and Betsy. Soft pink…but pink didn't look good on Rogue. She was about to give up and tell them to wear whatever they had when she spotted a rack of soft green, full-skirted dresses made of crepe and satin.  "Ororo! Jean! Look at these!"

                They came over. "They're not bad," Betsy said.

                Jean nudged her. "They're pretty. Come on, let's try them on."

                Jean looked gorgeous in it. Ororo looked beautiful in it. Even Betsy, although she grumbled that she didn't like the color, looked nice. The girls left the store carrying their dresses.

                Logan stared hard at Jubilee as she carried the bag up to their room. Jubilee hung it in the closet and started to go downstairs to eat, realized she'd forgotten to wash her hands, and returned to the bedroom…just in time to see Logan pull the zipper down on the bag.

                "Logan!" She grabbed the garment bag with her precious dress in it away from him and glared at him. "You can't see it before the wedding!"

                "But I want to know what it looks like, Jubes," he protested.

                "Oh, now, Wolvie," she said, shaking her finger at him as if he was a naughty child, "it's bad luck, and I said you couldn't, so you can't." Logan looked at the finger wagging in front of him, growled, and nipped the finger. Jubilee sighed and melted against him. Logan forgot about the dress, dinner, and the wedding. Forgot everything, in fact, but the urgent need to take Jubilee in his arms and hear her pant for him.


	11. Wedding

Chapter 11: Wedding

                The sky overhead was a clear, endless blue, with a few puffy cumulus clouds drifting by. Jubilee peeked out of the window at yet another car pulling up in front of the mansion, the bright sun quickly drying off the rain droplets still clinging to its top. She giggled and turned to Ororo, standing beside her as Jean took her turn in the bathroom changing into the pale green dress. "Thanks for the nice weather," she said.

                "You are welcome," Ororo said serenely, watching Alex and Lorna get out of the big van pulling up now at the front doors. With a mere thought, she pushed the storm clouds further from Xavier's grounds, back toward the Village. She didn't want Jubilee and Logan's wedding day ruined by rain.

                Jean walked out of the bathroom, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. "Okay, Jubilee," she said. "Time for you to get dressed."

                With Ororo and Jean's help, Jubilee got into the white dress carefully and stood still as they zipped it up. Sitting down carefully in the chair in front of the vanity, she kept her head still as Ororo swept up the sides of her hair in an elegant twist and pinned it in place at the back of her head. Jean plugged in the curling irons, and she and Rogue started to curl the long black locks. 

Jubilee had chosen a veil decorated with white flowers that looked especially pretty against her black hair. When Jean and Rogue finally stepped back to examine the elegant, pretty black curls, Ororo carefully set the wreath of flowers on the curls, fussed with it a bit, then fluffed up the tulle of the veil in the back and pulled a layer of the white stuff over in front of Jubilee's eyes. Jubilee tried to brush it back, but Ororo batted her hand away. "Leave it there, Jubilee! You can't pull it back until Logan does it for you in front of the minister!"

"But I don't like stuff in front of my face," she muttered irritably.

"It's only for a short while," Ororo soothed, brushing pale blue eyeshadow on Jubilee's eyelids. She smoothed powder on Jubilee's creamy complexion, brushed a tiny bit of blush on Jubilee's cheeks, then sat back and let Jubilee look at herself in the mirror.

Jubilee stared for a moment. "I don't look like me, somehow, anymore," she said. "I look…I don't know…prettier. I'm not really that pretty."

"Jubilee, it does not matter what you think; Logan will find you quite beautiful enough. Now come on." Jubilee rose from the chair, slipped her feet into her white shoes, and smoothed down the skirt. "How do I look?" she asked.

Ororo smiled. "You look beautiful, Jubilee." 

"Good. Now let's get this over with, okay? I'm hungry. Can't wait till the ceremony's over to dig into that food the Professor hired the caterers to fix."

She got up and started to leave. Rogue grabbed the bouquet of white and red roses and almost tripped over the hem of her green dress rushing after Jubilee. "Hey, wait! Yah forgot your bouquet!"

The minister and the guys were waiting outside on the short, clipped grass of the south lawn of the mansion. Storm held Jubilee back for a second, nodded to the deejays, then let Jubilee go as the strains of the Wedding March began to play over the speakers set around the area. She, Jean, Betsy, and Rogue walked after Jubilee at a sedate, steady pace.

Logan turned, saw Jubilee and completely forgot to keep messing with his tie. He stared at the vision in white coming up the aisle between the rows of chairs set out for all the guests there in the grass, and wondered for a moment if he was dreaming. Jubilee looked so beautiful!

She reached out and took his hand as she reached him, and as they both took the last few steps to where the minister was standing, she winked at him. Logan relaxed. Still the same old Jubes. He tried to concentrate on what the minister was saying, but his eyes still kept straying off to the side. He couldn't believe he was getting married again. After he'd married Viper he'd sworn he'd never get married again. Staying single was much better.

But Jubilee changed all that. He loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone. Even Mariko. The love he felt for Jubilee was so much deeper than what he'd ever felt for anyone he'd ever loved before. Maybe it was because he'd watched her grow up; he knew every side of her, every mood, every experience that had made her what she was. Or maybe it was because she was…

**Logan,** came a voice in his head.

_Professor?_ He blinked.

**Stop overanalyzing, Logan,** Charles Xavier's mental voice was warm in his mind. **You're here, Jubilee is beside you, and you're about to get married. Whatever lies behind you is gone; whatever you two will face is in the future. Neither belongs to the here-and-now. Enjoy the moment. Or I'll have Jubilee paf some sense into your head.**

Logan spluttered, and Jubilee turned her head just the slightest bit and winked merrily at him. Apparently she'd heard what Xavier told him too. **Even worse,** she said. **I'll make you take me out to Fastlane tonight instead of leaving for Canada for the honeymoon.**

_Oh, no! Not that! Anything but that!_ Jubilee dissolved into mental giggles, though outwardly she remained straight faced. She nudged Logan with her elbow, and he belatedly realized he was supposed to say 'I do'.

"I do," he said. Jubilee responded soon with her own "I do."

"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride now." Logan grabbed Jubilee in a giant bear hug, disregarding her squeal of "Watch the dress!!" and plastered his lips against hers. She opened her lips willingly, and they kissed for quite a long time before Jean said delicately into their minds, **Uh…people are looking.**

_Let 'em look. Mind yer own business, Jean,_ Logan thought. She stopped.

*                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Ororo wandered back outside after she changed into regular clothes. The party was in full swing. Jubilee had told them she wanted a quiet ceremony with a few friends; but she hadn't taken into account how many friends she and Logan had. When she had sat down to make a list of everyone they'd have to send invitations to, the list had been several pages long. She'd given up, talked to Charles, and he'd issued a blanket invitation to everyone they knew. A few invitations had gone out to special people, like…

                "Max," she smiled warmly as Jubilee's big friend came up to the refreshment table, looking uncomfortable in his suit. "What, no tie?"

                "Naw," Moose said, grinning at her. "Can't stand the things." He helped himself to a glass of the punch and stood next to her, watching Logan and Jubilee pose for pictures. "They're a lovely couple. I didn' think so when she first told me she was goin' wit' him, but there ain't no one I'd rather see her wit' dan him."

                "Me neither," Ororo put down her glass as the strains of a slow love song filled the air. "Max, would you consider joining me for a dance?"

                He stared at her. "Uh…are you sure? I ain't the best dancer."

                "I would not have asked you if I was not sure," she said serenely. She held out her hand, and they wandered onto the stretch of green grass where Jean and Scott were already dancing. They were joined soon by Rogue and Remy, and, a moment later, by Jubilee's friend Amanda and Hank.

*                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Amanda blinked as Hank whirled her around. "For all that mass, you're very graceful," she said.

                "Thank you," Hank said. 

                She sighed. "I never thanked you for taking the time to listen to me," she said. "If you hadn't, this day might not have happened."

                "That is not a good thought," Hank said. "And I find I must thank you, also, for bringing Jubilee's situation to my attention. Though I did not know it was Jubilee at the time, any instance in which mutants are exploited and used must be stopped immediately."

                "I agree." Amanda was companionably silent for a short time.

                Hank spoke first. "Jubilee informed me of your acceptance to Columbia University. Congratulations, dear."

                Amanda blushed. "Yes, it took me completely by surprise when she told me I had been accepted. I didn't expect anything after all this time."

                "Jubilee can be quite persuasive," Hank chuckled. "I have no doubt that what she wrote in her letter was more than adequate to obtain your position. What will you be teaching?"

                "Biology," Amada couldn't contain her excitement. "And they have labs there, and I can continue my research and write my papers while I'm there. It's going to be great!"

*                                                                              *                                                                              *

                Jubilee walked outside. She and Logan both agreed it was getting a little warm, and had gone in to change. She looked around for him, didn't see him, and wandered over to where Xavier sat in the regular wheelchair. "Seen Logan?" she  asked him.

                "I believe he's still inside changing," Xavier said. He put down his glass. "You looked lovely, Jubilee. I'm glad you and Logan are finally happy."

                "Oh, yes. Blissfully so!" Jubilee laughed. 


End file.
